Rise of the Humoncoli, Part 2
by FutnutMcGucket
Summary: The Northwests have hired a new butler, Dipper. He has no background to speak of but is hired on the spot by Preston. He can plan events at a moment's notice, keep your secrets and brew the best tea. But not all secrets are meant to be kept in the dark, and this butler's secrets are too dangerous for Northwest money to disappear. (continuation of other fanfic)
1. Chapter 1

Okaaay

Sooooo

I am publishing this chapter because it's been done for months. Promises were made to publish by a partner but did not result in any change in the original story. So, I am publishing this and any other chapters I decide to write in order to fulfill an earlier agreement that was never completed.

* * *

She was nervous. Dreadfully and painfully nervous. But Jane von Schneider was not one to lose her wits under stressful circumstances. She was a von Schneider no longer under the thumb of her brother. Still, the sight of a dead body missing a good chunk of its head is quite disconcerting.

"How's it hanging there Dippy drip?" Bill Cipher chuckled. "I say that because you're bleeding. Lol."

Jane's countenance remained unchanged. She was a stoic's dream manifested in reality. Her legs showed the stability of 100 tiny and shivering Chihuahuas.

'Who is this freak?' Jane thought to herself. 'How did he just do that with his hand to Dipper's head?'

"Whoah there sister you look a little tense. I guess you would be after seeing this hot mess turning into a literal hot mess."

At that precise moment Dipper's mutilated body decided to ignite into a burgeoning black bonfire.

"Ay carumba. Looks like I spoke too soon."

Bill laughed his terrible otherworldly laugh. To Jane, it sounded like there were multiple voices coming out of his mouth. "I have to get out of here." Jane took one calm and collected step to the door to the hallway before grabbing the door handle and jerking it in every direction.

"He hehehe. Here let me help you with that since you find my jokes that bad."

And with that Bill floated, not walked, towards her. Jane stared in disbelief at this new development to the already absurd scene. Dipper dead, Dipper's head gone, Dipper doing magic tricks, Dipper's burning body smelling like rotten, 5 day old, pork meat, and a facetious, handsome blonde dude floating towards her to open the door. It was then and there that Jane came to an enlightened state where she could make the only rational conclusion about the situation.

"Wait, I get it now. I'm being punked."

"Right." Bill said, exaggerating the vowel sound. "There I dids it."

"Thank you." Jane soon regretted that statement when she found that the doorknob was not only still locked but glowing as well.

"That didn't do anything." She stared blankly at Bill.

"Oh but it did. You see I unlocked the door with magic then I put on an even stronger spell to lock the door."

"Uh-huh?" Jane waved her hands above Bill's top hat.

"There are no wires keeping you in the air like that is there?"

"Nope."

Jane glanced at the pile of burning flesh that was once Dipper. Her face was blank.

"Dipper's really dead. Isn't he?"

"Yep. Give him a few minutes. He'll be fine. I do this often enough to him that he doesn't mind anymore."

"Who are you again?"

"I am…" Bill said in a husky masculine voice. "The guy who saved your life." A pair of sunglasses mysteriously appeared on his face. "I'm also the guy who put that cursed mark on your hand. I have these sunglasses on not because they make me look cool but because that cursed mark is starting to go into high beam mode."

Jane didn't need to look at her hand. The brightness from her hand was visible enough already from her peripheral vision.

"And your name is?"

"Bill Cipher at your service." He said, bowing with his top hat off to reveal a screaming disembodied head. "Hehe. Forgot to put that away."

Jane looked at Bill's creepy smiling visage and bloody hand. The very hand that had killed Dipper and was dripping with real human blood. Then she looked at Dipper's burning corpse. The horrid odor of burning hair was gone to be replaced by a stronger smell of burning pork. She wondered off handedly why the smoke alarms or sprinkler system hadn't gone off yet.

Glad that she had finally gotten a decent enough explanation, Jane heaved a sigh of relief and, once again, calmly turned towards the door.

"Somebody help me. I'm trapped inside a locked room with a fire and a homicidal maniac named Bill Cipher." Jane was screaming at the top of her lungs while fist banging the world's sturdiest and most magically enchanted door.

"That's enough of that silly buns." A cane pulled Jane by the shoulder and towards Bill. "Come. Sit with me and warm up near the campfire." She assumed he meant Dipper's burning corpse and not the fireplace. "Here we can even toast some s'mores like those happy people in infomercials." With a flick of Bill's wrist, the chairs in the room rearranged themselvesto form a circle around the fire. Soon afterwards a bag of Kushies chocolate, Fatty Mcfat marshmallows and Hearty-O crackers dropped onto one of the chairs.

Jane very slowly and cautiously did as she was told and sat on one of the chairs, hands clenched in her lap.

"See. I'm okay. You're okay. No one is gonna die. I just wanna have a little chat." He said as he deposited his floating body onto a chair next to her. Millions of thoughts were spiraling out of control in Jane's mind. Who was this loquacious and enigmatic man? Was this still part of an actor was this all for real? Furthermore, how does one roast s'mores without sticks?

"Nothing like a good'ol campfire to livin up the nerves and enjoy s'mores around." Bill assembled the ingredients for one s'more in one of his black gloved hands and shoved it in the fire. It quickly caught fire. "Here you go. I think you need this more than I do."

"No thank you." Jane said, shying away from the black flames that engulfed the sweet treat.

"Suit yourself. I'm gonna eat this like a person." Bill began scarfing down the flaming s'more, laughing while he did so. "Pain is hilarious."

Jane tried not to stare at Bill's soot covered face.

"So you're probably wondering why a handsome guy like this can be so amazing and even bother to show up to save a ditsy blonde like you."

"No." Jane said flatly.

"Well you should be."

"I mean…" He took another s'more and shoved it into the fire with his gloved hand. "Man he makes a great campfire s'more."

Jane glared at him.

"Lemme guess. You're staring at me because I'm the only one eating s'mores. Here have a chocolate. They're the best chocolate 50 cents can always buy."

"I don't want any of your gross chocolate."

"Geez. Touchy. Just like your brother."

Jane sat ramrod straight. "How do you know my brother?"

"He is an associate of mine. He meets and services a certain need that I require. It's complicated but if you've ever seen the movie Misery by Steven Queen and Fifty Shades of White then you'll understand."

Jane thought about it for a moment in her traumatized mess of a brain. She hadn't seen that many movies to being with. The last movie she saw was _An American Werewolf in Paris_.

"Does this mean he's sad and has a girlfriend or he's away with you?"

"Yes." Bill Cipher registered Jane's confused expression and clarified. "Let's just say your brother is in a better place." He began licking the melted chocolate off of one of his gloved hands.

"Let me tell you how things really work, okay? You see, a guy like me-"

"A freak?"

"A devilishly handsome freak." Bill corrected her. "Chooses to make certain deals with people like him." He gestured towards the fire. "The deals usually involve fixing a problem that the person has and in return I receive a tribute of some kind and/or favor. You know what I'm saying?"

"I think so. These favors and tributes you get," Jane said, trying her best not to stammer. "What are they exactly?"

"Entertainment as my closest friend for a set period of time or gold."

"Okay then." It was Jane's turn to sit there in disbelief. Whoever or whatever Bill Cipher was, he was clearly someone either involved with organized crime, a psychopath or an escaped insane asylum prisoner with a background in stage magic. Maybe even fake blonde hair.

"And before you ask, this is my natural hair. So if I act like I'm blonde, it's because I'm being blonde. I can read your thoughts."

Jane assumed that twitching on his face behind his sunglasses meant he was winking. She disregarded that statement as nothing more than masculine bravado. Despite the man's exaggerated attempts at pacifying Jane, she still felt uneasy around Bill. Here she was roasting s'mores using the maybe burning corpse of Dipper. With every word leaving his mouth about his profession Jane felt more and more like he was a man she couldn't trust.

"These arrangements you make with people…" Jane said amidst the noise of Bill shoveling even more flaming s'mores into his face. "Does this mean you've fixed the Northwest's and Dipper's problems?"

Bill let out a loud choco-flavored belch. "Normally I don't disclose the problems fixed among other clients but since you're a related party and direct recipient of the fixed benefits I'll let it slide. Yes I have fixed problems for those two interested parties. As per the agreements set out in that fix I am duty bound to protect you from all harm as signified by that seal. Speaking of which, let me tone that down for you." He snapped his fingers and the brightness that had been assaulting their eyes from Jane's glowing hand vanished. "Woo. Sometimes I don't know my own strength." He blew on his fingers to dissipate the imaginary smoke.

Meanwhile, Jane sat stone faced at her chair. It was one thing to have Dipper as her protector and another entirely to have this nutjob mutilating people's heads every time someone tried to harm her.

"What exactly is or was your relationship to Dipper?"

"A client who is currently serving out the conditions of his contract. I don't like going into detail about other people's deals." He said whilst burning s'more crumbs into blacked ash on his hand. "But let's just say ever since I've helped him out of a certain bind, he's been like a son to me, him and all the other people I've helped."

When Jane chanced a look at Bill she was expecting something akin to nostalgia. What she found was desolation, like he was looking at the wastelands of a battlefield.

"Well." Bill said, springing to his feet. "That's all the time I have." A bright white light manifested in a corner of the room. Remember. Reality is an illusion, Dipper is not what he seems." As he said these words, Bill began floating towards the light. "Buy silver. Byyyyyyyyyyyyyyyye!" The light grew until it blinded Jane. It took a few moments of eye rubbing and stumbling before she regained her senses. She got it back just before tripping over something soft and warm.

Agitated groans came from the thing she had tripped over. When Jane finally opened her eyes, she saw that the room was back in order.

The chairs and tables had all gone back to where they once were. The laptop with its offending material was where it was. Once more, Jane could breathe the air of a clear room instead of one filled with acrid smoke. She could also see that she had tripped over Dipper's half naked body and was currently straddling him.

Ever so slowly, Dipper also came to and opened his eyes. As Dipper took in the state of the room, the absence of anyone else and the way his body was oriented with Jane, he sighed.

"Jane, if you allow things to go in the direction I think you want it to go I must confess that I am above granting leniency for sexual favors." A righteous smack came crashing down on Dipper's cheek. "Nor am I into S & M play." He grabbed the hand that had struck his face. "Still I suppose your smacks hurt more than your punches. FYI I'm more of an S-type character."

It was no use. Dipper's man hands had Jane's wrist in a vice-like grip.

"Now where were we? Oh yes." Dipper pulled Jane closer to himself so that he could have ready access to her head. "Just let this happen, Jane. It'll all be over soon." He caressed Jane's right cheek, letting her blonde locks fall between his fingers. As he applied pressure to Jane's temples, he readied the energies within himself, preparing to apply the minimum amount to wipe, not destroy, her most recent memories.

"If you don't want to be reduced to a headless corpse again, then I suggest you let go of me or else Bill is gonna come back and have another go at you."

Dipper's body froze at that. "How do you know that name? Was he the one who interrupted me?"

As if in answer to his questioning, Jane's hand began to glow again. Dipper recognized that accursed eye of providence symbol. He also realized what would happen again if it continued to glow like that.

'It seems the deal I made earlier is working quite well,' Dipper thought to himself.

He had made many deals with Bill Cipher; this was by far the third most troublesome.

"That damn demon," Dipper muttered to himself.

"Let go of me already." Jane tried freeing herself by pushing off of Dipper's rock hard pectorals, but to no avail. All that did was pivot more force from Jane to Dipper's crotch.

"Apologies Jane," Dipper said, ignoring the awkward position they were putting themselves further into. "Perhaps I am being too physical." He released Jane's hand.

"I don't even know who you are anymore." She began pulverizing Dipper's chest, or at least attempted to. "You're a cruel and evil man, just like my brother." She beat the words into him. "You hold people against their will. Torture them and use magic. I don't know." Jane planted a righteous haymaker onto Dipper's left temple. "Who is Bill and what is going on?!" She pleaded through eyes about to burst into tears. "Just what are you?"

Once again Dipper sighed. He had been through experiences like these with women before, minus the cowgirl position.

While he hated generalizing women, Dipper knew from first-hand experience that once you made a lady cry you had the option of either getting out the way or giving her what she wanted and then move out the way. Given the situation he was in, the presence of uninvited guests and the damage Jane could do to Dipper's reputation with these new revelations about him and Bill Cipher, it was time to fold.

"Alright, Jane. I will do as you ask."

Jane steadied her breath, panting from the exertion she had spent physically venting her anger.

"But first, I will require you to get off of me. My underwear is quite burnt and your bucking hips have only made things loose down there. If this continues then I'm afraid I will be too indecent to dress myself in front of you."

At that exact moment, a very loud knocking came from the door. "Housekeeping. Is anyone here?" It opened to reveal a Spanish looking maid with a vacuum cleaner at the ready. The gray haired Spaniard stood frozen, taking in the sight of one half naked male on the floor, his expression: annoyed, and one Jane von Schneider looking like she had seen the gates to heaven open.

"I come back later. Please continue." The door closed and with it came the sound of paper rattling. Most likely the application of a very large "Do Not Disturb" sign. Things became deathly silent after that. A pin dropped from one of the closets in Dipper's room. It was far too loud.

Jane screamed, "Wait! It's not what you think! I nee-"

"If you don't wanna be labeled as the woman who was caught sexually harassing a Northwest butler," Dipper said, his hand clasping her mouth. "And not know anything about what is going on then you will keep your mouth shut. Nod your head once to let me know you understand."

Now the situation was really spiraling out of control. Dipper was literally caught with his pants down, or rather burned off. Guests were not being tended to, an implacable girl had to be pacified and/or blackmailed from spilling the beans and his reputations was just moments away from being flushed down the toilet.

'It's a butler's worst nightmare,' Dipper thought to himself.

"I'm terribly sorry to inconvenience you again Jane, but…" Dipper raised his hand and a white handkerchief flew to it. Jane, sensing another restraining was coming, ducked her head and clutched herself to Dipper's chest. "Relax. You're not being harassed by magic again. I just want you to wear this around your head so you don't see me in an indecorous light."

Like a rabbit coming out of its den, Jane raised her face out of hiding. She was beet red. From anger or embarrassment, Dipper couldn't tell.

Jane snatched the cloth from his hands and quickly tied it around her eyes. "You're worse than my brother. You're both cruel and disgusting perverts."

On unsteady legs, Jane picked herself off of Dipper and onto her two feet. Dipper followed suit and walked over to the lone closet in the room.

"You're one to talk. Sneaking into a butler's private quarters without permission, accessing my computer's internet search history, engaging in S & M play whilst in the cowgirl position," Dipper scoffed. "How shameless."

In a fit of rage, Jane yanked the handkerchief off and turned to face her accuser.

"I'm not a peeping Tom."

"Now you are." Dipper said as he pulled on a new pair of underwear.

"Don't just stand there. Turn around." Dipper said, without taking his eyes off the pair of clean suit pants he had chosen from the closet.

She did as she was told and regretted ever falling for such an indecent man. 'It's nothing I haven't seen already. It's nothing I haven't seen already.'

"Right, I am adequately clothed now. You may turn around now."

Jane heaved a sigh of relief.

"Now, first things first, to save my reputation." Dipper clapped his hands together and out from his sleeves flew black smoke. In an instant, the smoke had covered him then vanished, taking Dipper along with it. The only thing left was the smell of rotting meat.

"So that's where it's been coming from," Jane choked out. 'I always thought it was just someone passing gas.'

 ** _Much later_**

Pacifica yawned. "Did I miss anything while I was asleep?"

"Not much." Dipper replied as he buttered Pacifica's bread. "There were some unwanted guests at the door awhile ago but I sent them away."

Jane glared at the two of them from across the table. The urge to tell Pacifica everything that had transpired in Dipper's room was like a great rock within her heart. Unfortunately, she would have to hold her tongue lest certain details of the encounter slip up. In the end, Dipper had managed to convince her that no one would believe such a, as he put it, "phantasmagorical story" without proof. Even if she did try to reveal the truth to someone, the results would always meet the same unsatisfactory end.

"Hola, Mr. Dipper, how are you this evening?" said a very dazed and Hispanic-looking maid walking through the small dining room. There were two things off about her: The first was that maids don't usually stumble into dining rooms if they aren't serving anything. The second peculiarity about her was that her hairstyle looked like it belonged to the bride of Frankenstein. After Dipper had zapped her brains a couple of times to wipe the memory of Jane straddling Dipper on the floor of his bedroom, Jane had learned that her name was Maria.

"Fine, thank you. I hope my living quarters weren't too dirty for you," Dipper said.

"No. I go vacuum my face now."

When Maria the maid had gotten out of earshot, Pacifica snorted.

"Pacifica, what seems to be so funny?"

"Oh nothing." She replied, wiping off the bit of saliva that had trickled down her lip. "Has that maid always worn that freakish hairstyle?"

"That may have been due to a vacuuming accident involving a frayed wire and some electrostatic discharge."

"And how many accidents with the vacuum's electrical cord did she have exactly?" She giggled.

"I lost count. People can be so clumsy sometimes in other people's rooms. Am I right, Jane?"

Pacifica raised her eyebrow at that.

"Oh? Jane, what were you up to today while I was asleep?"

"Helping Dipper out with getting rid of the unwanted guests." Jane said in a meek whisper. Fortunately, Pacifica had good ears.

"Eh? They were that troublesome that you needed help?"

"Naturally not. But with Jane's assistance, it made things run much more smoothly," Dipper chimed in.

"That's so nice of you Jane. Thank you."

'I'm glad you slept well. Little miss perky,' Jane thought to herself.

"I simply had to acquiesce to her request for assisting me. I mean she was very physical about it."

Jane gave Dipper the stink eye. 'I swear I'm going to throw this knife at you Dipper.'

Physical is a very broad term meaning contact was necessary to produce results. In this case, physical meant Jane had helped load two screaming guys into the trunk of a car being driven by a bunch of Slavic speaking dudes. A few kicks were thrown in to stuff the duo in the back but beyond that nothing breaching the borders of physical into violence.

Involving Slavic help with the disposal of the intruders was not Dipper's first thought. Incinerating their bodies in a raging black fire and reducing them to ashes was the best choice in his mind. However, Jane had pleaded for their lives too ferociously and coerced Dipper into releasing them to a more merciful fate with their bodies intact.

"I have to ask Jane. I know it must have been tough leaving your brother under the circumstances that he put you through up until recently. Do you feel welcome in the mansion?"

"What do you mean?"

"Does it feel like a home? I want you to know that you are under no obligations while you stay here and you may consider yourself a guest of the Northwest family for as long as you like."

"Thank you Pacifica. It feels just like home." 'My old home.'

Dipper smiled as he refilled Pacifica's glass.

* * *

Soooo. What did you think? Should I keep writing? Should I stop? Leave your reviews and we'll see how far this goes. In the meantime, I'm gonna eat some polenta with saut(e')d mushrooms and Gruyere cheese. It tastes like El Dorado!


	2. Chapter 2

And here is another lovely chapter for any lovely readers out there. Leave a comment if you liked it or leave a specific one sentence critique. Alternatively, you can read and not leave a comment. I'll just go off into a corner and eat a cheese sandwich with bits of caviar in it.

-munch-munch-

Forgot to mention, the first part of the story is entitled Rise of the Humoncoli by Mon Cri. I highly recommend reading those chapters to get a good comprehension on what is happening in the coming chapters. It's gonna be gewd!

* * *

Jane had to admit, lying to Pacifica about her plans for the evening left a sour taste in her mouth. True, she was staying late into the night with Dipper. It was also true that she was going to meet him in the gym to receive some on-on-one teaching. However, the kind of learning Jane was about to receive would most certainly not include martial arts.

 _ **Suddenly, a flashback –**_

"Eh? Does she need that much extra training? She didn't do much better than me the last time we sparred." Pacifica pouted.

"Yes. But Jane was particularly adamant about receiving training tonight. It seems she took my comment about her weak punches to heart."

Dipper would've continued talking if it wasn't for the kick he received to the shins.

"I just think that Dipper teaching me the proper technique for punching and adapting it for someone with an injured hand would give me added confidence for the next time."

Jane smiled. Dipper thought it looked like a shit eating grin.

"But you didn't even need bandage wrappings. In fact, it looks like it healed quite nicely."

Dipper and Jane shared quick questioning glance.

"Oh, it's fully healed alright. It just feels like the decreased range of motion on some of my fingers has made it difficult to make a fist or do delicate work like hold spoons."

"On that note, have you been having trouble eating? Do you need assistance with your silverware?"

Another quick kick to the shins silenced Dipper.

"Oh, no. That won't be necessary." Jane said in a sing-song fashion.

'Her leg work is much better than her punches,' Dipper thought, not showing the least bit of discomfort.

"You guys smile way too much when you're together. You know that?" Pacifica said.

 ** _Present –_**

After narrowly avoiding the detection of some nightly cleanup staff and gossiping butlers, Jane finally made it to the training room. She opened the double doors and was greeted by the site of Dipper standing at attention, like a soldier in a military.

"There you are Jane. I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up." Dipper said between dodging Jane's raging fists. "Oh dear, did I say something offensive?" He back flipped away from the next flurry of attacks.

"That was one of the most anxiety laden dinners I've ever had in my life Dipper!"

"Why whatever do you mean Jane?"

By the time Dipper had finished the sentence Jane had charged right up to him and began a barrage of side kicks.

"Lying to Pacifica like that and that constant teasing. This is what you do to Pacifica everyday isn't it?"

Her arms were snatched from her. She was twirled around. Jane didn't know how but suddenly her left arm was wrapped around her chest while her other arm was stuck sticking up into the air.

"That's right." A husky and irritated male voice whispered into her ear. "I am the biggest liar in this mansion. I've done this kind of work for years and it doesn't bother me one bit." The training mat they were standing on burst into black flames that barely illuminated their faces. Jane could feel the flames licking and lashing at her legs from beneath her sweatpants. Oddly enough, they didn't burn.

'It's all a magic trick, it's all one big magic trick,' Jane repeated the sentence like a mantra. She had hoped it would calm her heaving chest.

"What I'm about to tell you Jane could very well endanger your life as well as everyone around you. Or what little friends and family you hold dear."

Jane struggled to free herself from Dipper's grasp, but to no avail.

"You see Jane, it works like this." The flames grew much brighter at that. "I was tasked by someone, a very powerful someone, to recover an item from the Northwest mansion."

By now the cackling flames had made their way to the wooden floor.

"You spoke with him once and he's left his mark on you."

Jane switched her gaze to her hand pointing up into the air. It was lit up like a blinker on a car.

"By having that mark, Jane, he can find you wherever you may be."

Beads of sweat were now dripping from Jane's forehead.

"He could tear your entire life apart, and he will…unless…"

Jane gasped and shut her eyes.

"You don't breath a word of this to anyone you meet. Ever."

Her body went slack and she sighed.

"I understand. And I still want to know."

"As you wish."

A fierce wind blew all around them and whipped at their hairs. It screamed and howled for what seemed like hours until it stopped just as suddenly as it came. There was no sound of otherworldly black flames, just dripping water on old stone.

"You can open your eyes now."

She did as suggested and found that they were no longer in the gym but the dungeons.

In one corner of the room was a festering corpse. So badly was it decomposing that its legs had literally melted away.

"And him, it, technically has no sex." He said, pointing to the assembly of painted symbols and mysterious objects.

"I don't see anyone there. Is this supposed to be a shrine to the god you worship?" Jane asked. She never pegged Dipper to be the religious type. Then again, she's been learning a lot of new and surprising facts about Dipper.

Dipper freed Jane of his embrace. "Step into the circle and then you'll see."

She did as she was told and saw what he meant. As soon as she stepped in the circle a fat man with long hair riding atop an alligator appeared before her. It was one of the strangest sites she had seen in real life and not on a Zootube video.

"Dipper. What is this creature you have brought me? Is she to be an offering or part of this new information you spoke of?" The fat man demanded. Dipper also entered the circle and placed his hand on Jane's shoulder.

"This is not part of the deal. Ignore her. She is simply another interested part who wishes to know more about Bill Cipher.

"Hey, just who ar-" The grip on Jane's shoulders suddenly tightened.

"Agares, is this circle strong enough to repel Bill Cipher's influence and presence?"

Jane shot a glare at Dipper. She had half a mind to punch him right then and there. But something told her that this was not the time. Especially with the alligator eyeing her like some piece of fresh meat.

"Now it should." A sudden increase in pressure behind the eyes seized Jane. "Apologies if this feels a little uncomfortable. The energies released should counter any and all traces of Bill Cipher, including the power within your bodies. Now tell me of this new information Cipher wants kept private."

"Agares," Dipper bellowed. "Bill Cipher is attempting to steal an artifact from the Northwest family which has the power to free his kin from their unearthly prison. He has tasked me with recovering it due to the extenuating circumstances surrounding his presence in the physical realm and in this mansion."

"A demon wishing to free his brethren from a prison? This is most interesting news. Interesting, but nothing more. If this is all, then I shall take my leave."

Sparkles shimmered and cascaded from Agares' greasy hair like dandruff flakes. Soon, his body and his pet began fading before Dipper and Jane.

"Agares, I have one more deal to offer you!" Dipper pleaded.

By now, Dipper was on his hands and feet.

"Very well then. But be quick about it. What is your offer this time, puppet of Cipher?"

"A chance to banish Cipher from existence once and for all."

* * *

 _Belch_

Well that sandwich was tasty. The caviar has that saltiness that complements well with a very rich cheese like Mozarella or Butterkase.

Seeya next week.


	3. High Expectations

Forgot to mention, that last chapter was meant to replace the chapter entitled _Time is Ticking._ Mon Cri, the author of _Rise of the Humoncoli,_ wanted that chapter posted instead of the one currently in his fanfic. Don't know why he never got around to replacing it. Anyway, here's another one.

* * *

Another glorious day in the Northwest Manor began. The butlers and maids awoke from their cots with a crackle and a creaking to their joints. The sun, with its garish light, burst through the oversized windows and rammed itself into every groggy eyed soul, including one Pacifica Northwest.

With a lazy swipe at her face, Pacifica rubbed away the morning eye crust.

 _What a lovely day,_ she thought to herself. She saw the splendor of the sunrise mounted above the tree line through her window.

It had been a slow few days for Pacifica, almost monotonous: self-defense training in the mornings, breakfast, virtual internship, planning for the upcoming week's schedules and repeat.

When she thought of how things could've been, without the company of Jane or Dipper, it brightened her spirits a bit. It had only been a few weeks with them but Pacifica had gotten to the point where she was comfortable enough around them without fretting about her appearance or constantly monitoring her professional behavior.

Her time in college had taught her a great many things. First and foremost, people were dull. When and if you wanted to make your life exciting and fulfilling, like her parents, you needed to make contact with the right people, make the necessary connections so that when the time came you could use them to your advantage. A favor asked when the timing was most convenient and a favor done without immediate compensation so that they will remember you next time. There was no shortage of rich kids at her college and she garnered the attention and favor of a good number of them, either through charms stemming from her intellect, personality or looks.

Such is the life of an heiress and high performance student. Everyone else who didn't have the looks or the brains would soon realize it and settle for using their education managing a convenience store.

 _Looks,_ Priscilla Northwest's words rang true in Pacifica's mind. _Looks are everything._

As long as you could accomplish maintaining the advantage and an air of respectability, or looks as Priscilla aptly put it, you would have a long and prosperous life. With friends of the greatest kind and opulence everlasting.

However, Dipper and Jane von Schneider were two individuals who did not fit the mold of highly sought after friends. They were anomalies born out of a terrible event that had nearly befallen her and a stroke of luck.

She looked at the black bell on her bedside table. One ring and her personal butler and/or secret kissing partner would inexplicably appear by her side. She thought of him and Jane and their exact purpose in her carefully constructed life.

 _I guess I can call them my friends. I mean they're definitely not the rich acquaintances I'm used to and they don't offer any benefits that can be quantified montetarily or business connections. So…butler with benefits?_

She thought long and hard about that arrangement. Among the people she knew, they would all most certainly disapprove of such a relationship.

 _Wasn't this a cliché? A rich man's daughter eloping with a hired hand because she's lived an overtly sheltered life._

No matter how ridiculous the statement sounded, that was exactly how things were.

"Obviously daddy is going to disapprove of such a relationship. Mom's a different story. She had her little flings around my age. Though not with the personal butler."

Pacifica got out of bed and stretched her arms to the ceiling.

"Am I following in my mom's footsteps? God I hope not."

"My friends will not disapprove. Maybe tease. But they will spread the news around like tabloid journalists."

A vision popped in her head of Dipper in his dapper uniform being hounded for juicy details about his relationship status by a gawking crowd.

"Not nearly as bad as having daddy send the assassins kept on retainer after him. Who knows? He might not die; he'll be maimed, be reclusive to safeguard the secret or fired."

She walked over to her private bathroom and splashed some cold water in her face to wash away that line of thinking. One of the last things Pacifica had on her top ten priorities list was the idea of a secret fling with her butler. Being on time and prepping for morning training and her marketing internship was first.

 _Ring-ring…_

"Who the bloody hell is that?" Pacifica groaned. She yanked a towel from the nearby siderail, almost flinging it to the toilet, and quickly dried her face off. "This had better be important." Inside the bedside table, Pacifica grabbed her annoying cell phone and answered the call without even looking at who it was.

"Hello, Pacifica dear?" A familiar domineering male voice said over the line.

"Daddy, hi." She said, instantly switching her tone from annoyed to overly cheerful.

"How have things been going at the manor?"

"Everything's going well. Dipper is keeping everything in order and I've been keeping myself busy with the internship in New York."

"That's good to hear, Pacifica. I called because I wanted to let you know that we'll be arriving home today in the afternoon. I've stomached enough of what this Bill Cipher has had to show us about his accomodations he's had for that Von Schneider fellow."

 _Good riddance_ , Pacifica thought to herself.

" _Ahem…_ The real reason why I called is because some very important people will be visiting the house in a couple hours. Due to some bothersome distractions-"

"Hey Presty!" Called another voice in the background. "Do you want jalapenos in your salad? I thought you said in your eyes but that's too fun."

"We'll be arriving later than we expected. Be a dear and tell them we're not home and won't be until much later. Don't talk to them about business and have the manor staff pamper them until our arrival if their schedules for the day allow for it. They'll be easier to handle if they're slightly drunk and/or happy."

 _Uh oh._ She knew where this was going.

"Above all. Do not disappoint me Pacifica. This meeting could very well influence the future of our household."

"Understood. Will that be all?" She could practically hear the bells ringing.

"Yes. Have Dipper prep the French Brandy for serving."

Before Pacifica could say anything more, Preston Northwest hung up.

 _See you soon daddy._ Pacifica shoved her annoyance at the discourtesy of her father's phone etiquette and quickly got dressed. Dipper was her personal butler but she didn't feel right giving him orders in sleeping shorts and a sheer camisole.

She slapped on something that resembled business casual for the impending visit, a gray skirt and a sweater vest, and set about finding Dipper.

That wasn't too difficult for her. With the simple flick of a bell Pacifica could have Dipper right where she wanted him. It was waiting for her on the night table next to the bed.

 _Dingly-dingly_

Immediately, the smell of rotten meat began seething through the door of Pacifica's bedroom. The smell only got stronger when Dipper opened the door.

"Dipper. There you are. I need you to-" The oppressive odor of rotten meat had finally overridden Pacifica's ability to speak. "What is that ungodly stench? Did you just rip one?"

"Fortunately not. I did however have the chance to assist in some kitchen repair work involving a grease trap."

"Fine, whatever," Pacifica said, while squeezing her nose shut. "Just listen up. Find Jane and have her confined to one of the lower level drawing rooms or back yard quadrants. We're having important guests over very soon and I don't want anyone ruining the occasion."

"Understood. What would you have me do to service them?"

"Give them the Northwest hospitality. Treat them like royalty. I'm sure I don't have to tell you this but it's very important that you do not begin any discussions about the reason for their visit."

"Very well. Will you be joining me and the rest of the staff in greeting the guests?"

"No." At that, Pacifica stopped her pacing midway and clenched her fists at her sides. "That won't be necessary. I'll be with Jane the entire time. My father gave me very specific instructions regarding the handling of this matter, which reminds me. Be sure to serve them up the finest French brandy you can procure from the basement."

Pacifica made her way someplace secluded to avoid any attention from the guests. Not 5 minutes later Dipper reappeared next to her as she was turning the corner next to the silver mirror room. She ordered him to return to his post and tend to the guests but was fixated on staying by her side like a fly on horse manure.

"You don't know what he's like. If he doesn't get his way then there will be consequences, from my father and for the Northwest name."

"I directly serve your father. I'm an expert on what he wants and what he's like."

"And how long have you been under our employment?"

"Enough."

"Enough to know next to nothing. You just don't know what he's like."

"I wouldn't say nothing." He said whilst pulling a thick and rumpled manila folder from his back. The Northwest family insignia was stamped on a corner.

"That's from daddy's private office! You should put that back." Pacifica sprang for the folder.

"Relax. I've had a lot of prior experience. And your daddy is still in the dark about how I'm so well equipped and at the ready for his requests." Like a schoolyard bully, Dipper kept Pacifica at arm's length away from the object of desire. And like a wimpy kid who suddenly grew a pair, Pacifica tackled Dipper to the ground.

"If you keep talking and acting like this in the open, then he will find out."

"Your fears are unfounded."

"Yes they are." Came a voice from down the hall.

"Shut up Lazlo," Dipper shouted back.

"Make me."

"If you don't shut up Lazlo, I will sue you and I will own you," Pacifica yelled.

"You already own me."

"Then I'll have you fired!"

"I'll be good," Lazlo said meekly and dragged his sorry self away from the awkward wrestling scene. Poor Lazlo, always the one to be excluded and ridiculed in the group.

"Please get off of me. This is bordering on sexual harassment," Dipper pleaded.

"In what universe is this sexual harassment?" Her hands were still a few inches away from the folder.

"Not that I'm complaining but if anyone were to see us, they would observe a man neck deep in-"

In a flash, a soft and swift fist planted itself on Dipper's face. "Shut up you little pervert. You are my servant and you will hand me that file."

"Is the defilement of your father's office so important that you would continue the sexual harassment of your personal butler?" He said in a voice muffled by Pacifica's heaving breast.

Pacifica stiffened. And blushed. It took a fair bit of body contortions to disentangle herself from Dipper. Finally they were both standing up and straightening out their rumpled clothing.

 _Ahem –_ "Dipper." Pacifica said in the most constrained polite voice the butler had ever heard. "Could you please return that folder to my father's work desk? It would be bothersome for both me and my da-father if it was not returned to its place of origin immediately."

"This file concerns blackmail and extortion against your family. If that is your firm wish to return-"

"I don't care and it is," she cut him off.

"Then I shall oblige." He held the folder in both hands and walked off in the direction of Preston's office.

By the time the doorbell rang for the guests, Pacifica had made her way to the Northwest manor greenhouse. In reality it was more a conservatory.

She didn't care about the 4000 square feet or the numerous exotic medicinal plants from the Northwestern United States and beyond. No, she was fixated on waiting the visit out by relaxing near the large pond at the center of the facility.

As a teenager she would always try to avoid the oppressive company of her parents by running out to the forest. After being attacked by coyotes when she was 16, she thought it best to hide in the wild animal free jungle that was the greenhouse.

The pond was her favorite spot. The domed ceiling above allowed for maximal light exposure, allowing for light reading, while the palisades of creeping vines surrounding the pond and only bench provided some welcome privacy. It was the perfect spot for being alone, crying your eyes out or playing doctor.

Sadly, none of the options were available to Pacifica because when she got there she saw Jane already reading a novel, Voltaire's _Candide_ , at the bench. Pacifica mentally sighed and sat at the molded border of the pond.

"Hello Pacifica." Jane finally said.

"Hello Jane." Pacifica replied flatly. She gazed at the Koi fish and water lilies in the pond, hoping that the sight would bring back memories of visits to mainland China. _I should really bring some tea to this place. It'd make my alone-time all the more relaxing._

"Is something the matter Pacifica?"

And just like that the trip down memory lane made an emergency landing.

"I'm fine."

"Is there something important happening at the manor?"

"No. Just some business associates of my dad's coming over. They want the place to themselves while they talk about whatever it is they want."

"Oh. Okay." Jane quickly went back to her reading, avoiding Pacifica's piercing gaze.

They both sat in an uncomfortable silence for five long minutes. Jane herself was finding it difficult to remember the names of all the characters she had read about.

"Actually, no, everything's not alright."

Jane nearly jumped from her seat.

"I tackled Dipper to the ground in the middle of the hallway. I didn't mean to, he just kept resisting and he wouldn't give it up. This is the first time he's refused me and I hate him for that. I ask him for one thing and then he and Lazlo accuse me of sexual harassment."

"Hello 911, I'd like to report a case of sexual assault at the Northwest manor. Yes I'll hold."

Pacifica screamed, "Jane!" She swiped the phone from Jane's hands and tossed it into the pond.

"I'll get you a new one," Pacifica said between huffs.

"Should I be concerned?" Jane said. She sat huddled on the bench side furthest from Pacifica. "About what you do with Dipper in public when I'm not around."

"Jane, Dipper was stealing from my dad!"

"Like…money or-?"

"No it wasn't like that. It was-" Pacifica sighed and pinched the area between her eyes. "It was some file from daddy's office. He said it like he had been doing it to get to know daddy better. But Dipper hasn't known him for that long. Doesn't know what he'll do to me and you if we do something like this."

"Pacifica, does your father sexually assault you?" Jane said with the most serious face Pacifica had seen.

"No one is getting sexually assaulted! Look. I'm not damaged goods like you because some pervert in my family liked to touch me all the time."

Jane slammed the pages of her book closed. "You're right, Pacifica. You're not like me." Jane quickly stood up. "You're a lot more insensitive." The next moment, Jane was jogging away into the jungle.

 _Damn it, she's gonna get lost in here._ "Jane wait. I'm sorry but you shouldn't run off like that in here!" _I should've known not to say anything like that. Don't bring up people's bad reputations Pacifica. It's not a productive area of discussion for business._

Pacifica took off in pursuit of Jane only to be stopped by a hand grasping her arm. "Hey let go!" She demanded.

"If I did that you'd fall to the ground."

"I said let go!"

"As you wish." And just like that Pacifica fell to the ground. She was struggling so hard against Dipper's grasp she forgot her balance.

"I did tell you, didn't I?"

"Why were you stopping me in the first place, Dipper?"

"Well, I already had another servant to accompany Jane. He'll keep her out of trouble. Secondly, but more importantly, I wanted to explain myself to you."

Pacifica wanted nothing more than to punch Dipper in the face. But with the way her social skills have been today she thought it best to listen instead of being the only one talking. She sat down with a huff on the wooden bench. Dipper sat on the opposite edge, hands folded on his lap.

"The reason why I had that folder to begin with was so that I could better prepare for today's events. You see, I've known about this visit for a while now because your father told me well in advance."

 _The matter is on a need to know basis Pacifica. You will compartmentalize and act as told,_ said the familiar scolding voice of reason inside Pacifica.

"Before becoming a butler, I've learned that vagueness is the enemy of logic and critical thinking. Preston did not give me the nature of the visit of his guests, only orders and a very panicked countenance. Even worse when your father gave me advance directives about the visit, he told me to confine you to another area of the manor until the visit was over, if necessary. As well as organize a few damning files for him"

Pacifica turned to look at Dipper with eyebrows raised.

"I wasn't going to bring you in chains or anything if that's your thinking. I mean I am an S-type kind of guy but I'm fairly certain that's not what he had in mind."

"Don't second guess yourself. If it was my dad then I wouldn't be surprised."

"Sadism aside, I became deeply suspicious and took it upon myself to investigate Preston's guests. When a father asks a man to keep his daughter away it's either because his daughter is in danger or the daughter is a danger to herself. I've already checked your medical records and the only negative health outcome seems to be very rare and mild anxiety attacks and-" A hand grabbed Dipper's mouth.

"We can discuss that which shall not be named later," Pacifica growled in a low whisper. She wrenched her hand away.

"Why are you using that voice? We're all alone here."

"No you're not." Came an annoying female voice.

Pacifica darted her eyes across their immediate surroundings. "Dipper who is that? That's not anyone who works at the manor." That much was obvious. The voice sounded far too young in comparison to the usual over thirty year old maids.

"Go home Mabel!" Dipper shouted into the vines. He quickly turned to Pacifica, "That's Mabel. She's a new member of the staff. She needs manor orientation," he said to her, smiling away the awkwardness.

Pacifica's countenance changed to that of disgust. "Ugh. I hate eavesdroppers. Dipper go shoo her away."

Dipper pulled a radio from inside his coat. "Alpha 3. Alpha 3. We have a code gray but proceed with caution."

"Roger, roger," was the reply before the radio faded back into static.

"Bloody manor servants. They can't stop sticking their noses where they don't belong." Pacifica muttered.

"This bloody servant…" Dipper emphasized. "Gathered enough resources so that you may act as something more than just a liability to your father."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well obviously your father wants to groom you into leading the family business, you resent him for thinking the less of you for not meeting the high expectations he sets, you're frustrated at the lack of progress on both your ends so I thought why not procure the files-"

"Stolen." Pacifica interjected.

"Temporarily borrow the files that your father was using to prepare himself for the visit from potential blackmailers and extortionists."

Silence followed Dipper's explanation. Dipper tried to look at every area around that was not Pacifica's face.

 _This is a really lovely place,_ Dipper thought to himself. There were drooping purple flowers and beans peppered throughout the creeping vines surrounding them. He could picture himself making a flowered crown out of these plants for Pacifica on one of these nights. It would make it all the more romantic if it was in the moonlight. The dome directly above them would provide adequate moonlight on certain occasions. _Perhaps I'll train and cultivate these vines for something more utilitarian._

"Dipper, you don't know my father like I do. You don't know what he does to people, to me even."

Dipper was getting tired of that motto. "And pray tell Pacifica," he said with the most blank face Pacifica had ever seen.

 _He is an outsider to the family. He wouldn't understand._

"I can imagine what your father does to his business rivals and opponents to his projects. I can even confirm my speculations because I read through his journal. Funny stuff he writes about me by the way.

Pacifica could feel a vein pulsing her left temple. _Why is he being so nosy? He doesn't know anything._

"What does your father do to you?"

"If you must know Dipper," she emphasized his name, "He sends me away."

"To your room?"

"I'm not a child Dipper. No." Pacifica stood up and began pacing around the pond. She needed to move around.

"When I was thirteen, my dad began punishing me by sending me from the manor for not living up to his standards of proper behavior, academic or physical performance." She let her hands fall limply to her sides. "One time I didn't maintain the minimum GPA he set for me in college so he sent me to a small island in Southeast Asia to build huts for the locals over the break. It wouldn't have been SO bad if I didn't almost die of malaria."

For some odd reason, Pacifica's bottom lip began twitching. Luckily for her, she was facing away from her audience.

"Actually, I think that was a blessing because my dad pulled me out of there the next day."

 _Keep your voice down Pacifica; use your inside voice,_ said the eternally angry internal voice.

Dipper listened to Pacifica's diatribe against her father. He didn't offer any words of comfort or advice, but remained seated and stone faced.

"And don't tell me that you can help because he has ways of dealing with them as well if they get too close."

She waited for Dipper's response. Perhaps some brilliant concoction would appear out of thin air to calm her down. At this point Pacifica felt like her father should be coming down now and tell her something to the effect of shut up.

This was beyond the realm of professional behavior. Pacifica Northwest was confessing the reality of her personal life to a mere butler. He wasn't a friend with connections and he didn't come from money so his opinion didn't matter to Preston Northwest. Right hand man or not, Dipper was just a very trusted servant.

 _Tell me I'm crazy_

"I'm not going anywhere Pacifica. I will make sure of it."

Suddenly, Dipper had Pacifica in a full bear hug. One arm wrapped around the small of her back, the other mid torso, stopping her arms from making any unnecessary movements.

Physical contact for Pacifica was not something she was accustomed to. Her first reaction was to punch Dipper in the face but with her hands entangled in his embrace she thought it best to just let it be for five more seconds, or maybe a minute."

"My dad had my last butler fired. He's still unemployed; He saw to that." She whispered into Dipper's ear.

"I know." He whispered back.

"You should see what he does to my ex-boyfriends."

"Then I definitely don't ever want to do this," Dipper said before planting a gentle kiss on Pacifica's right cheek (more of a peck really). She really didn't know what to do now.

Instead of doing what she thought was right, she did what came naturally; Pacifica laughed, a stupidly girly giggle. Whether this was proper etiquette for a Northwest or not in front of servants, Pacifica didn't care anymore.

Dipper on the other hand, looked just as confused as Pacifca's thoughts. He held her at arms length. "Are you alright Pacifica? Did I say something that funny?"

Pacifica simply continued giggling in between coherent sentences. "No. God I don't know anymore," she said as she put a hand to her forehead.

This made Dipper even more concerned.

"You're doing everything wrong Dipper. Stealing from your employer's private offices, kissing your employer's daughter, reading my dad's private journal."

"You make it sound like those are all bad things."

Pacifica slapped Dipper on the shoulder. "They are when it's one of the richest and most powerful men in Oregon. I mean…" She looked away knowing full well the mad blushing on her cheeks was clearly visible from little space there was between them. "What is it all for? To get me sent back to some godforsaken island?"

Dipper placed an ample 5 feet between them and looked her in the eye. "From what I observed, already knew about your family and what you've told me, you could really use an opportunity to show your father that you don't care what he thinks and that you can demonstrate power against the people that go against your family. Do you not find it stifling that after all this time, your father still treats you as a liability rather than a resource when handling business related conflicts?"

Pacifica raised an eyebrow at that. "Are you sure about that Dipper?" She took a step closer towards him. "Am I really worth it to help out?" Her voice adopted a sing-songy tone.

"I was assigned to be your personal butler. Of course you are."

"Knowing full well you could be fired and put on a blacklist?"

Another step.

"This isn't my first gig working for the rich and powerful. I have my ways."

She took another step.

"You could be condemning me to a week in Australia doing construction work for aborigines." Another step and Pacifica was wrapping her arms around Dipper's neck.

"With the photos I took of those documents on my phone, the prepared summary report I made of the docs, written speech and radio earpiece I believe you'll be well equipped to make some very good friends out of your father's detractors. Who knows? They may very well sue for peace and make an offer for a trip to Paris, France." Dipper brought up his cell phone and began scrolling through the aforementioned documents.

"Can you make those into a single pdf?"

"I'll make this into a powerpoint slideshow so you can show them."

"You make powerpoint slideshows sound so sexy." Pacifica said before she planted a full on smooch on Dipper.

* * *

And cut! Nice work everyone. Beautiful, just beautiful.

(Actors walk away and out of the greenhouse)

So whaddya think? Too cheesy? I certainly thought it was. But that was the way Mon Cri intended it to be. Seriously? Seriously, Dipper? PDF's are not sexy! They are one of the most unsexy file types in existence. Word docs though, that's where it's at. But I guess people like static docs while I like mine to be more malleable. Excuse me while I go down a jug of red wine. That was way too much cheese.


	4. Confrontations

"They're late." The gaunt man on the left said.

"Relax, Jean-Claude. Assurances have been made they arrive within the hour. We have a set timetable." The paunchy man on the right said.

Both wore custom tailored black business suits with a gray shirt.

"We had a timetable," the man named Jean-Claude snapped. "It's been thrown out the window. I'll have to stay up an extra three hours into the night clearing up the mess at my desk."

"Is it not better to just savor the moment Jean-Claude?"

"Easy for you to say Luka. You're practically a part time lawyer."

Despite the luxurious surroundings, a lit fireplace, comfortable leather armchairs all the scotch they could drink and a pool table, Jean Claude was completely implacable. And rightly so. He had been promised an audience with the Northwests, not their butlers.

Jean Claude glanced at the butler currently attending to them a few feet behind their chairs.

"Do you think he can understand us?" Jean Claude asked in his proud Parisien French to Luka.

"Je ne sais pas. Best not to test that little theory."

Jean Claude waved a hand at that. "If anything, none of these Americans can speak proper French, let alone comprehend French speech," he said, still keeping the conversation in French. On instinct, Jean Claude glanced once more to the butler behind them and noted that he hadn't changed his expression. _Either he has bad ears or bad brains._ Jean Claude relaxed in the comfort that their insulting little conversation would have no French speaking audience.

"Gentlemen, I heard that you wanted a word with the Northwests," Pacifica said as she opened the double doors to the room.

Both men arose from their chairs. "Bonjour Miss Pacifica Northwest." Jean Claude smiled as he said the words. "So happy to see you. How have you been?"

Pacifica tried keeping her face straight instead of allowing it to twist in disgust. _Ugh, a breathalyzer would be going off even at this distance._ "Jean Claude, so nice to see you." She shook his hand very firmly. "Really good actually."

Jean Claude nodded his head. "Tres bien. We were expecting Preston Northwest and not you Miss Pacifica." He took a quick look behind Pacifica. "Did you arrive home with him by any chance? I have a matter of grave importance regarding certain security related events at the firm."

Pacifica gestured towards the butler in the room. "Dipper. Vous pouvez partir."

Dipper nodded and left the room to perform some other duties.

 _Mon Dieu. L'homme peut comprendre Francias._ Jean Claude inwardly scowled at his cowardice for not directly asking.

"Are you here to finally announce your acceptance of my job offer, Miss Pacifica?"

Pacifica put on her best shit eating grin. She wasn't going as some little girl about to accuse someone of wrongdoing. No, she would save that for later, if and when that side of her became relevant. "I'm afraid not Jean Claude. My father would miss me terribly if he were to lose me to a close associate of his."

Jean Claude chuckled in the way only a drunkard could. "That is Preston, always thinking in terms of winning or losing. But look at you," He said, gesturing to Pacifica's severe business attire. A clean and pressed white blouse and black, lint free pencil skirt. "21 years old and fresh out of college. Given the job market out there for young graduates, it's either go back to school or start building your career."

"Don't compare the heiress of the Northwest family to common folk," Pacifica replied, maintaining that unnatural smile of hers.

"I meant no offense by it. But I've heard rumors that your father desperately wants to have you installed in his consulting firm. I'm sure you're tired of his influence."

Luka took another sip of his liquor, barely containing the laughter threatening to erupt from him.

"Thank you for the offer but I have to decline. Actually I came here to discuss the accusations you were about to level at my father about corporate espionage, embezzlement and the recent cyberattacks against his own firm."

In that instant Luka decided to become a fountain that spewed brandy.

"To put it bluntly, yes," Jean Claude, said. Not at all phased by the sudden turn in conversation."It has come to the attention of certain interested parties that recent unfortunate events plaguing NW Consulting can be tied to your father's suspicious activities. Is he here? I think it would be better to discuss these sensitive matters with the owner of the firm and suspected party rather than his daughter."

Pacifica knew how to handle this. She had read the files on the cyberattack purportedly coming from an IP address in Gravity Falls, Oregon at breakneck speed. She had also read the research done on Jean Claude's clients, the next in line for CEO at NW Consulting, one Frederick Boeser. Jean Claude wasn't here to request an explanation; he was coming here to discuss the terms of Preston's resignation either voluntarily or due to the release of scandalous information which would coerce the parent company of NW Consulting to fire Preston. There would be a hefty reward for Jean Claude if he pulled through with this.

 _Informational asymmetry, Pacifica. You know that they don't know what you know._ This was not unlike the time she had sat in as an emergency hiring manager.

She was not terribly nervous. A slight tingling sensation ran all over her skin and she could feel the onset of her breathing pattern changing from and relaxed to almost heaving. There was no turning back now, Pacifica was openly disobeying her father and all she had to rely on to ensure things didn't go to hell was her memory of the enormous pile of materials she had just finished reading, Dipper's voice guiding her from the earpiece she had on her and years of practice making speeches in college.

Pacifica snapped her fingers and the doors to the drawing room creaked open. "Hello gentlemen," said a balding man sporting a maroon suit and red striped tie. The hair on his sides was graying from age but his eyes burned with an inner fire. "My name is Frank Ozanich and I represent the interests of the Northwest family." Mr. Ozanich hobbled over to the little table between Luka and Jean Claude's lush leather chairs and deposited a fat stack of folders with a thump. "Inside the folders you see before you, you'll find all the pertinent papers regarding the incidents you may or may not have mentioned that can be tied back to Preston Northwest."

Jean Claude glared at that stack of papers before scoffing. "I only mentioned general statements regarding the incidents thus far. I doubt that you were able to comb the files of the entire firm for the ones that concern the matter at hand. Luka, if you would."

Luka, chin still dripping with that delectable French brandy, tottered over to the standing parties and stacked sideways on the pile of evidence five very modest in size folders.

Pacifica couldn't help but grin at the contrast in the amount of preparation each party had come with. _Mine are bigger than yours_ , thought Pacifica.

Jean Claude cleared his throat into his bony fist. "If you could fetch your father for me Miss Pacifica I woul-"

Pacifica was already at the stack of folders Luka had presented,

flicking through them with a hand that trembled with both anxiety and anticipation at what she was about to do, what she was about to accomplish. She didn't bother getting too much into the details of the files; the abstracts were good enough in letting her know there was nothing she hadn't already read about in the files Dipper had given her. The only real dirt they may have had on her family was the tracing of the cyberattack to Gravity Falls, Oregon. The damage report of the intrusion had not concluded with anyone being definitively identified as the culprit but anyone could've carried out the intrusion with the right information and a laptop costing less than $1000. _I'll just have to have daddy give an alibi for his whereabouts that evening._

"Contrary to what you may believe gentlemen, I do believe that my files should answer all of your questions regarding the incidents you're trying to tie to my father," Pacifica said without turning away from the files. "Let's talk about it."

 _ **The story of Jane**_

Jane von Schneider was lost, both in the mansion and in life. Hours ago, a Northwest servant had been kind enough to escort her out of the gargantuan greenhouse and back to her room so that she could read her book in peace. That lasted five minutes and by then she had finished Voltaire's _Candide_ and wanted something just as stimulating. Unfortunately the enormity of the Northwest manor had gotten the best of her and she was presently struggling to find the silver clad room which she knew for a fact was just around the corner from the library.

As for being lost in life, there would be no help for Jane in that department. From the Northwest servant that had escorted Jane to her room, she had learned that Pacifica was currently handling a very sensitive matter regarding the family's business.

 _I guess that explains Pacifica's irritable behavior,_ Jane thought. _She has responsibilities, a future with her family's business and has some duty to protect it._

And that's when Jane's thoughts began to turn towards her own family and life. Jonathan was gone, she was presently residing with the Northwests (people whom her family was supposed to hate for reasons only known to Jonathan and forced on her) and was for the most part safe, free of past scars and free to do as she pleased for as long as she wanted at the manor. But she didn't know if that's what she wanted.

As she rounded another corner, Jane instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. She was wearing a heavy sweater and loose fitting jeans, nothing to suggest she had curves, but Jane still felt like eyes were probing her every time she passed a male servant. There was none.

 _Pacifica has a future commanding these men and running the Northwest business but what do I have? Am I just damaged goods?_

For the briefest period in Jane von Schneider's life she truly, and foolishly, believed that her future would be at to live at the Northwest mansion with Dipper as her guardian. She had found a savior from Jonathan, a reprieve from the nightmare of endless abuse and torture. But after her discovery of Dipper's true form, she just couldn't see that happening. Those bulging biceps of his which had strangled her brother and once made her heart flutter now made her cringe with fear, of what they were capable of, of what they had possibly done to others who had not deserved it. And that dreadful fire that enveloped everything he touched, consuming his skin and flesh until he didn't resemble a man at all, but a blackened demon.

It was of no consequence. Jane von Schneider knew the truth. Demons were abundant in the Northwest Mansion, it seemed. Bill Cipher and Dipper the butler, both unruly killers willing to maim and torture anyone who got in their way, including each other, were not to be trifled with. She had to escape. Warning the Northwests and Pacifica would be futile as she so readily saw with Maria the maid.

Jane von Schneider thought it over and remembered the vast fortune the von Schneider's were supposed to have. She had never managed it; Jonathan was the keeper and manager of both Jane and the von Schneider fortune. Whenever it was decided that they needed a new penthouse, Jonathan would buy it. Whenever the office called, Jonathan would answer it and punch Jane if she ever dared an attempt at picking up the phone. If it was decided she needed new clothes or undergarments Jonathan would choose the most ill fitting and drab ones from some store and leave it on her bed.

 _With Jonathan out of the picture…_ Suddenly, Jane came to the realization that she was much freer than she had previously thought. All that power and money Jonathan supposedly had was now partially accessible to her if she could find a way to get in contact with it. She would have to go through mountains of paperwork and seek legal counsel, but, with tenacity, she could have the control she so desperately needed. Escape was possible and she needed only to finance her way out of it with money she already owned.

Finally, Jane had made it to the library. Looking up at the vast columns of books and the spiral staircases to reach them from their lofty position, Jane tossed _Candide_ onto a reading table and started walking over to the drawing room. Obviously, she wasn't going to risk death by falling for some book. All the popular and interesting reads were more easily accessible in the drawing room next door, probably for the courtesy of the guests.

That's when she heard a familiar voice.

"Si vous pouvez le faire. Je voudrais le regarder."

 _No. It couldn't be,_ Jane thought. Her mind was returning back to her time with Jonathan. Images of whips and worn leather restraints came flashing back to her. Demons came in many forms but this one was definitely human.

She peeked through the open door of the drawing room just enough for the top of her head. Her long hair, however, made it quite apparent that someone was watching the group inside.

"Ca va bien comme ca."

He was speaking French but she remembered the voice of that fat bastard in any language. The cold sweat on her forehead was catching her platinum blonde hair.

It was all coming back to her in waves. Her knees were beginning to buckle and threatened to leave her a mess on the floor.

" _Would you kindly allow me the pleasure?"_

" _Would you kindly give this to him?"_

" _Would you kindly buck your hips more?"_

" _Would you kindly put these garments on? I especially chose them out for you?"_

" _Plus fort, s'il vous plait!"_

" _Would you kindly?"_

" _Would you kindly?"_

" _Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly? Would you kindly?"_

" _Would you kindly lower your voice? I'm videotaping your special moment for some friends and I'm afraid they're not into screamers."_

 _Luka_ _Müller_.The name echoed inside Jane's head. By degrees, Jane had regained control of her legs and her sweat. Her breathing had slowed and her grip on the open heavy grain wooden door loosened, leaving behind smears of her sweat.

 _My name is Jane,_ she thought, pausing to breathe _. I'm not there anymore. Jonathan is gone. I am safe._

She gazed at Luka sitting in his comfy leather chair next to the fireplace. She wondered how comfy he would be if she kicked the fat folds on his neck until they were flat. One step at a time, Jane approached Luka with a cold intensity in her eyes. It didn't matter that Pacifica was there chatting with two skinny dudes in suits. It didn't matter that they had a slide show going on with a picture of a Cayman Island office on screen. Luka was her intended target. Or it would be if a hand hadn't been placed over her mouth. She started to scream but that was no use. The hand was gloved and muffled the noise. Everyone else was far too busy paying attention to the slides on the projection screen and Pacifica's confident voice.

Jane fought against her captor: stepping on their toes and elbowing their ribs. Then a curious thing happened. What felt like ropes to Jane began encircling her limbs and restraining her every movement.

She fought with every ounce of rage induced strength her body could muster, but it wasn't enough. Her vision went black and she could feel herself being dragged off. In her mind, she imagined a car waiting for her and her captor, probably Jonathan, outside the mansion, ready to whisk her off and away from her one and only refuge.

 _I'm not going back! I am not going back to that hellhole!_ _Fuck you Jonathan._

 _ **Ending**_

"So as you can see gentlemen. This is all really a big misunderstanding. The embezzlement was simply a mishandling of money that was supposed to go to outsourced work headquartered in the Cayman Islands. The cyber attacks on the firm were still very much the fault of my father but only because a lack of vigilance in verifying his emails made him fall for a phishing scam. Even then, about a dozen other employees with the same access to the client's information were compromised and led to the wider and more problematic cyber attacks that plagued us 8 months ago. In the folders I've just given you, you will find a fully updated damage report on the cyber attacks including information on the exact source of the hacks and the exact client files which were accessed during the cyber attacks and led to the leak. I've also taken the liberty of including my personal recommendations on how to reorganize the most vulnerable aspects of Northwest's Consulting's cyber security as well as a new training module to increase awareness of phishing emails among employees."

Pacifica stood up and walked over to the light switch to once again illuminate the dark room. She had just finished the powerpoint presentation and it would no one any good keep everyone in the dark. She liked what she saw. The guests in the room were slack-jawed. Surprise and apprehension painted both Jean Claude and Luka's faces.

 _Looks like someone isn't getting paid._

Pacifica looked to Mr. Ozanich. They shared a nod, knowing full well what they just accomplished.

This was an unofficial meeting, an informal discussion, a meeting between two interested parties to discuss a very private matter behind closed doors. But Pacifica knew what she wrought. The evidence her father had compiled and she presented was solid and there wasn't a single bloody thing they could say to get anymore out of her family. In short, there was nothing left to discuss.

"Jean Claude if you'll excuse me I must step out to use the bathroom for just a moment."

"Two doors down to the right," Pacifica said as Luka shuffled out. Then she turned her attention to Jean Claude. His eyes were bloodshot and wide open. Probably from both the brandy and the whirlwind presentation. So many facts and so little time; Pacifica felt like she was on fire. Jean Claude looked like he might throw up.

 _Go on Jean Claude. Say that you needed to my father again for a very private matter concerning Northwest Consulting. Pretend that this information has no relevance to what you were going to see my father about and offer to wait a little while longer for their return._ Pacifica continued to wait.

Finally, Jean Claude coughed into his fist before making a very cursory glance at his Rolex watch. "That was…uh…very interesting Miss Pacifica. Unfortunately, my time has run out and it seems I'm late for another appointment."

 _No you're not._

"I'll just have to reschedule that meeting with your father some other time. Miss Pacifica. I bid you bon nuit." And with that, Jean Claude stood up, scooped up the files that were his and Luka's from the pile on the small table, between the two leather chairs and began making his way to the door.

"Do you want to tell my butler about scheduling that meeting? He's very capable and knows my father's schedule much better than me," Pacifica said.

It took a good ten seconds for Jean Claude to properly answer her question. "No that won't be necessary. Besides, I'm already short on time as it is."

Mr. Ozanich arose and walked over to Jean Claude. "If you have any further questions regarding the Northwests and the information presented you can contact me," he said, handing Jean Claude a crisp business card.

Jean Claude sighed. "Thanks," he said and walked out of the drawing room at a brisk stride.

"I hope to see you at the annual Northwest ball!" Pacifica called out.

Once Jean Claude had left and the two remaining in the drawing room were absolutely certain no one could hear them, Mr. Ozanich broke out in a fit of giggles. Pacifica herself was grinning from ear to ear.

"Mr. Ozanich this is highly unprofessional. You can't giggle when you're still at work," Pacifica said.

Mr. Ozanich continued to giggle like a little girl. "Oh let it be. These old bones hardly get a kick out of work nowadays."

Pacifica looked back at the fat stack of files still on the table. "Do you have copies of all the files there?"

"Yes, yes." He swatted away the question. "I just need a few of the original documents for my records."

"Do you think you could give the rest of the files to Dipper so he could have them sorted?" She said just as he was leaving for the door with the files in hand.

"Not your secretary." Mr. Ozanich's voice echoed throughout the hallway as he hobbled out of the room faster than a hedgehog.

 _Fine. I'll just have to get Dipper in here for that._

* * *

 _Wooohooo!_

I am not sure how I wrote this chapter. It came in pieces of imagination, then globs, then a waterfall. I have to wonder, how would a business man react to a deal he was to personally handle only for someone else to handle it. Your inexperienced daughter, mind you. _Wink-wink_.


	5. Gratitude

Pacifica stood at attention, ready to face the possible barrage of abuse that was to come her way. Dipper, likewise, stood, back ramrod straight, like a soldier awaiting orders. Pacifica was tempted to chance a glance at Dipper and derive some hope from those unreadable brown eyes that everything was going to be okay. Unfortunately, when you are about to be shot by a hail of bullets, or in this case interrogated by a litany of prying questions by your father, one does not simply look to the eyes of your fellow sufferer. One must stand strong, firm and, of course, show no weakness when being interrogated by your parent and/or boss for things you may or may not have done wrong.

Pacifica had certainly done nothing wrong, at least according to her standards. She had simply made the most important presentation of her life which had decided the fate of her father's employment as CEO at Northwest Consulting. Whether or not the information she had gathered for that presentation was procured and presented with Preston's consent should matter little in comparison to the fact that Preston's would be usurper to his job, Frederick Boeser, was suddenly under intense scrutiny by his colleagues. Pacifica would certainly be surprised if Mr. Boeser would still be in his job one year from now.

Dipper had done nothing wrong. He had merely encouraged Pacifica to do the presentation by procuring the necessary documents directly from Preston's office without his consent. He also wasn't authorized to handle distribution of the sensitive information contained within the files about Northwest Consulting business activities to anyone else, but as Preston's informal right hand man wasn't Dipper allowed to do as he pleased?

"Would anyone like to explain to me what happened while I was away?" said Preston Northwest from his oversized black leather swivel chair. They were inside his main office. Preston was seated behind his desk, fingers tented and resting in front of his perfectly trimmed mustache, awaiting a proper answer.

"Sir," Dipper said. "If I may-"

"You most certainly may, Dipper."

Dipper swallowed an imaginary rock he felt in his throat. "To what specifically are you referring to?"

"I'm glad you asked. It has come to my attention that the other servants of the manor have formed this odd rumor that you two are romantically involved with each other."

Inside Pacifica's head, her mind was replaying every amorous interaction she had ever had with Dipper. It also suddenly occurred to her that Dipper's lips were the most kissable lips she had ever known. _You will not blush in front of your father Pacifica. You will look him in the eye._ Such was the state of Pacifica's mind.

"Is there any truth to these wild claims?" Preston asked, steely eyes glued onto Dipper.

"Absolutely not." Dipper met Preston's eyes with his own unflinching gaze. "My relationship with Pacifica is completely professional and platonic."

Pacifica darted her eyes back and forth from her father to Dipper. What she really wanted to do was glare daggers at Dipper but that wasn't possible if she wanted to avoid being sent to the middle of a godforsaken island or North Korea.

"As my right hand man, I'm inclined to believe you." Preston said. "As soon as you explain this video that was given to me by your security assistant who monitors the video feeds in real time." Preston pulled up a mini laptop and opened it. Immediately, a video of Dipper carrying Pacifica Northwest bridal style up to her room came up. The audio on the video had picked up the conversations of the other Northwest servants all saying "oh my" in a very suggestive tone.

Dipper opened his mouth but his tongue was not working. It was one thing to flat out deny accusations of romantic entanglement; it was entirely something else to deny footage of romantic entanglement.

"I can answer that," Pacifica chimed in. Preston's eyes swung from Dipper to Pacifica. She wished they hadn't. "I ordered him to."

Preston raised an eyebrow at that. It seemed to say _Did that sound better in your head than it just did out loud?_

"I was feeling exhausted after completing some research on a side project. My eyes were hurting terribly at the time so instead of risking bumping into everything, I ordered Dipper to carr-guide me to my room."

Pacifica stood there, having said her piece. But Preston's death glare continued and asked for more elaboration.

Finally, when Pacifica felt like things were progressing from awkward situation to staring contest, Preston was the first to talk. "That's good to hear, Pacifica. I certainly wouldn't want to hear my own daughter couldn't find her way to her own room."

The sarcasm on her ability to walk was not lost to them. Pacifica quietly let out the breath.

"Or was playing a little loose with the lower class."

Pacifica bit her tongue and shoved all the obscenities she was fantasizing saying deep into the pits of her stomach where butterflies roamed.

Meanwhile, Preston reached beneath his desk and pulled out a golden bell.

She swallowed a big gulp, big enough for Dipper to notice.

Preston then spun the laptop to face him and fiddled with the keyboard before presenting another interesting video feed.

"Care to explain what happened on this particular day?"

Pacifica looked at the video and almost had her eyes bug out of her head. _Is that Dipper and Jane shoving my parents in a giant duffel bag and carting them out the front door?_ She shot Dipper a most confused expression. _Dipper what the heck is going on?_ Is what her eyes and thoughts said.

"I can explain that. Two would-be burglars attempting to masquerade as you and Priscilla, entered the manor and tried stealing any and all valuables in your rooms. I, with the help of Jane, managed to subdue them and escort them off the premises."

"This looks less like an escort to the police and more like a kidnapping." Preston clicked the mouse and the video changed to Dipper kicking the bag full of Northwest elder look-alikes into a car that did not look like a Gravity Falls sheriff car. "Was it kidnapping?"

"Um...I think I would als-" Pacifica chimed in before being silenced by the ringing of the golden bell sitting on Preston's desk. She quickly clasped her hands over her ears and closed her eyes.

"I asked Dipper sweetie," Preston said without taking his eyes off the man.

Dipper coughed into his wrist. He would find out about Pacifica's odd reaction to ringing bells later. "The matter of not using the most legal means of disposing of the burglars came as a result of necessity. You see, some of the violent acts of the burglars had frightened Jane and some of the Northwest manor staff."

Preston raised a disbelieving eyebrow at that.

Dipper continued: "The burglars were armed with pistols and were quite willing to use them. The police were very slow in responding so instead of waiting for them and risk the burglars escaping I phoned a local friend to drive them over to the sheriff. After subduing them I tended to the more important task of calming Jane and the rest of the staff that were affected by the unfortunate visit."

Dipper thought about the fat lie he had just pulled from his butt. The burglars were quite incapable of putting up a fight once having been tied up. Their guns were confiscated and therefore posed little threat having been tied up. The local friends Dipper referred to were indeed gangsters (although you couldn't tell from looking at the rear of the vehicle). To Dipper, his explanation screamed nothing but fat, bloody lie.

"Mhmm," Preston hummed. "Good work, Dipper. I'm glad you were so...diligent in placing the safety of manor above all else. I have to admit, having sheriff Blubbs and his mentally handicapped partner on the police force is a setback for Gravity Falls."

Dipper grinned. "Thank you, sir." _Note to self: Kill or replace security staff in charge of viewing and handling footage._

"Now comes my main question. Where are my files for today's meeting with Luka Mueller and Jean Claude St. Clare?"

"I took them for Pacifica to use," Dipper promptly replied.

A vein pulsed in Preston's left temple. "You distributed documents, worth millions in sensitive information, from my office to a third party?"

"Yes."

"Why did you do that, Dipper? As my right hand man, you were supposed to keep them prepped and on lockdown until my arrival. What part of that did you not understand?"

Dipper thought very carefully about his next words. Explaining the entire affair as nothing but a part of a learning activity for Pacifica suddenly didn't seem sufficient to satisfy a Preston Northwest two seconds away from losing it. He could throw Pacifica Dipper under the bus and say it was all her idea. Neither sat well with him. Fortunately, he didn't have to make that decision.

"I ordered him to," Pacifica finally said.

Preston made a move for the bell.

"I knew that you would be late for the meeting with Jean Claude and his associate Mr. Mueller so I took it upon myself to clear up the misunderstanding you had with them."

Preston's hand stopped just short of ringing the bell.

 _You had his attention Pacifica. Now you've got his interest._ Pacifica had no idea where the thought had come from. She had no idea as to why there was a slight tremor in her left hand. In any case, she hid it behind her back and continued with her explanation. Maybe it was leftover confidence from the amazing presentation she had given Luka and Jean Claude or she had finally run out of f#%&s to give. Either way, Pacifica felt like she had to do something to save Dipper. And if telling a half lie to her father was going to help Dipper avoid getting fired, why not?

"Having received some information about the meeting from Dipper, I took it upon myself to resolve the situation by presenting all the evidence that would deflect all the accusations Jean Claude and Mr. Mueller were prepared to level against you."

Preston smiled a crooked smile. "That information was the culmination of months of research and would take days to fully comprehend, let alone present in a coherent fashion." He placed the golden bell he was still holding back into its drawer.

"Which is why I also ordered Dipper to condense it down for me. Using the abstracts and summaries he had prepared on such short notice I was able to synthesize a working presentation with enough detail to satisfy most of their questions."

"Uh huh..." Preston's voice was dripping with disbelief. "And how long did that take you?"

"Three hours, give or take. I've tasked Mr. Ozanich with receiving and answering any other questions which were not already answered during the discussion. Dipper?" She directed her completely calm gaze towards him. "Did Jean Claude mention a time where it would be most convenient for another meeting if he so desired?"

"No."

"Pity."

Preston nodded at the exchange, then spun his chair around to face away from his audience.

Dipper gulped more imaginary stones down his throat. How the meeting turned out to where Pacifica was in charge, Dipper had no idea. Throughout the entire situation, Preston had been nothing but relentless in his attempts at finding fault in Dipper's actions. If he needed an outlet for his rage at having his inner sanctum desecrated or for not having the meeting with Jean Claude and Luka not go exactly the way he intended, then it wouldn't be Pacifica. It would be the pawn, Dipper.

Suddenly, Preston's chair shook. "Haha. It looks like I was wrong about you." He turned his chair around to face them. "Dipper you can leave us. Pacifica please come here."

Dipper remained standing as still and silent as the dead. It took Preston's hand waving gesture to finally uproot Dipper from his shell-shocked state and make his calm way out of the office's door. _Well played Pacifica. Well played._

Having survived the torturous interrogation with his boss, Dipper prepared to throw himself at his primary mission. He didn't know how long he had before things would change or even before he would lose access to the manor. All that mattered was that he used the information extracted from the hard drives of the Northwest manor's computers to further his search.

Shuffling through the manor at this hour, the hallways were dimly lit. The late hour, poor illumination and occupation of the Northwest family with internal matters would make it ideal for Dipper to put in some good work on his primary project. No one was going to pay any notice to a butler with pockets full of jangling thumb drives.

 _Pacifica will put a good word in for me. I can be sure of that. The only thing I can't count is the erratic nature of human parents. It is of no consequence. All I need is a couple of minutes with those documents borrowed from the manor library, computers and Agares' translation skills he so generously bestowed on me._

He was two hallways away from his room before being interrupted.

"Dipper, if I could have a word with you."

Dipper stopped and looked in the direction the voice had come from. It was none other than Priscilla Northwest, standing in the doorway of a room wearing nothing but a silk, wine red robe.

"I just want to say thank you."

"I accept your gratitude. But for what exactly?"

"Maybe it's best we take this conversation inside." She cocked her head in the direction of the room.

Dipper followed her suggestion, like the good and obedient butler he was.

 _I do not like where this might be going,_ thought Dipper.

And for good reason. One does not receive gratitude from a older woman, in the dead of the night, wearing nothing but robes. He hoped that it would not turn out like some romance novel cliche' where the rich business woman has an affair with the butler, daughter nothwithstanding.

Priscilla closed the door behind him. The only illumination in the room was a fireplace which barely made visible the loveseat and a cushioned stool nearby.

"Please, sit." She said as she took the loveseat and Dipper, the stool.

"What is this all about again?"

"For helping my dear Pacifica finally show some backbone when it comes to interacting with her father."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh come now Dipper," Priscilla said, waving off ignorance. "Since coming back home, Pacifica has reverted back to the dutiful daughter she was before leaving for business school."

Dipper simply continued his confused stare at Priscilla.

"While I do prefer obedient daughters, I find Preston's overbearing presence on her detrimental to her overall development both as an adult and as future head of Northwest Consulting. I can't have a potential leader of Northwest Consulting flinching every time a bell or a whistle goes off in her presence because she thinks some form of punishment is going to follow or she's that much closer to an unwanted vacation in a 3rd world country."

 _How dare he treat her own daughter like a Pavlovian dog!_

He had already hated Preston, but now he hated him even more. In Dipper's mind, he cursed the name Preston and imagined all sorts of heinous punishment that could be inflicted on him in the near future. Finding none that satisfied him in the span of .5 milliseconds, Dipper settled on possibly asking Bill to rearrange all the orifices on Preston's face.

"I never imagined the extent to which Pacifica was influenced by her father," Dipper said, allowing surprise to register on his face rather than the rage that was threatening to unleash his unearthly powers. "She already told me about the-the forced trips, but not this level of psychological intimidation. Just wow." He ran a hand through his hair for added effect. "It makes so much sense now."

"I'm glad you share in my observations," Priscilla smiled. "Having said that…who do you work for?"

"Excuse me?" Now genuine surprise flashed across Dipper's face. It was stupid to think that this ordinary woman had figured out that Dipper was an inhuman creature searching for magical items in the Northwest manor on behalf of a cruel and otherworldly demon, wasn't it? Whatever the case, Priscilla Northwest was not buying the playing dumb act.

"You come into my house out of nowhere, with barely any background to speak of yet demonstrate the skill and knowledge to interpret and accurately summarize corporate documents for my husband, incapacitate intruders with ease and communicate with rich socialites and the lower class servants of the manor as if it's the most natural thing in the world." Priscilla Northwest tapped two fingers on the armrest of her loveseat. "I'm waiting," her tapping fingers implied.

Dipper was tongue tied. "I…I'm afraid I'm just one hell of a butler." He flashed her a smile of fake confidence. If he couldn't explain himself out of this, he could at least try charming his way out.

Priscilla snorted. "Did you get that line from a cartoon or something?"

"More like a book. But I was completely sincere. I am just supremely talented in various roles," Dipper said, glad that his tongue was finally working.

Priscilla hummed. "Advanced CQC, leadership and at or above college level reading comprehension and synthesis. If I didn't know any better, I would have to say tha-"

A great grandfather clock chimed in a dark corner, alerting everyone that it was 11 o'clock in the evening.

Priscilla pursed her lips. "Well it's getting late and we both have a small mountain of work ready for us tomorrow." She arose from her seat. When she got to the door, Priscilla stopped. "A fair bit of warning. When you operate among the rich and powerful, looks are everything. I don't know what a man with your skill set is doing as a butler in my family so let me be clear. Try anything with my family that results in any one of them getting hurt and I'll see to it you never work in this hemisphere of the globe again."

"On that note, is there a reason why you decided to hurt your own family?"

With the light from the hallway behind Priscilla, Dipper couldn't make out her reaction. She was a mere silhouette.

"I traced the source of that phishing email that hit Preston back to Gravity Falls, Oregon. It seems that Tobe Determined, the local pseudo news reporter, was paid to dig up some stuff about the Northwests using a Northwest manor laptop. Care to explain why he would have one in his possession. Or for that matter, why, in his words, 'a gorgeous looking brunette,' gave it to him?"

"Goodnight, Mr. Dipper."

* * *

Futnut McGucket's notes:

Hooooeeeeee. Ever had a hard talk with your parents about what you did with their broken car? It's really difficult and anxiety laden. Now imagine having a talk with your parents about your boyfriend/girilfriend your not supposed to have and doing their job for them when they explicitly told you not to at the same time.


	6. On Holiday

"Doctor, doctor!"

"Just spit it out man. I'm very busy." The good doctor's tired eyes never made contact with the source of the voice. Most likely the new medical technician on the floor. He was still a newbie at the psych ward. As a result, he still needed to be broken in, needed to be taught what he could and should do in the new lovely environment he found himself in.

"I've found toilet paper stuffed in the mattress of that John Doe character."

 _Ugh_. The good doctor rubbed his already red eyes. The long hours of reading the stream of medical data and updates for each patient assigned to the floor he was in charge was beginning to render his sanity and tolerance compromised.

"Why is toilet paper of such importance from John Doe."

"Well it's just that...well...if he wrote whatever was on here, then...well," the medical technician looked away, his wavy hair making a swing in the direction his head turned.

"Spit it out man. What did he write that's so important? Wait. Just read out the important bits." He held out a hand, warning him not to, on pain of injury to his eyes, make him read one more thing.

The medical technician cleared his throat. "It says: Hi I'm Futnut McGucket! Oooooeee look at me! I'm taking on a little Christmas Vacation doing something a little crazy for the story Ooooooeeee. This place gives me so many drugs. A lot more variety than the streets Ooooeeee. Chinese food, Russians going to German towns, Schnitzel! What the heck is Schnitzel?! Anyways, I'm partaking in all of it."

"Don't worry though Ooooooooeeeeee! We've got more chapters coming along. Then I have to write more. I'll give you a little something something to think about. Mabel's coming along for a visit. She might even stay with Dipper for the entire story. What kinds of craziness will she add to the story? I'm thinking giant plant monsters, date rape and/or indecent exposure. It's hard to remember anything with this stuff called GVS-111. Or is it NZT-48? I can't remember anything! I do remember though that I'm supposed to be out of here at least by January, or sooner. Depends on whether or not I feel like escaping this place. Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to speak Mandarin with my good friend who visits me every night!"

The medical technician looked up from the mess of toilet paper he was reading from and smiled at the doctor.

"Take that information to the nurse assigned to John Doe. Make sure she adds it to her charting notes."

"Yes sir."


	7. Enter Mabel

**Tout le monde**

It was a long day for Dipper. The excitement of helping Pacifica break out of her comfort zone, managing the affairs of the Northwest family and being cross examined by your employer's wife about potential interloping with their daughter (understandable given the torrent of gossip practically oozing from every Northwest butler and maid) made even Dipper feel as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. As soon as he opened the door to his room, Dipper would go over the security footage of the manor and researching the construction plans of the entire place.

Despite all the work he had accomplished today, there was still one pressing matter he had to attend to. The real reason why he had begun this farce as a butler, the reason why he had to endure the condescension of the Northwest family.

"Hey bro bro," said a very sultry voice from Dipper's bed. The origin of the voice came from a very bored looking woman sprawled on Dipper's bed. She had the same dark brown hair as Dipper and the same deep brown eyes as Dipper. Aside from that, and the fact that she was a girl with the obvious feminine features, the only difference in appearance between the two of them was that one of them was wearing a sexy French maid outfit. The skirt, Dipper noticed, was a little too short for Dipper's taste.

"Oh. Hello Mabel." Dipper replied with the energy of a chemotherapy patient. "What are you doing here and what are you wearing?"

"Oh just a little something I found in the uniforms closet for the manor maids. You like?" She sprung off the bed and did a little curtsy.

Dipper looked her over up and down and didn't change his expression. "It's nice. You might be showing a little too much leg." He trudged over to his bed and flopped onto it. "Again, why are you here?"

"Oh you know…" Mabel said. She took a seat next to Dipper, sitting on her feet. "We've been watching you have sooooo much fun at the mansion and so I thought why not join in. Besides, I always wanted to know what it was like to live the life of a princess."

Dipper rotated his head to look at Mabel with more than a little disbelief. "Really? I thought you were trying to impersonate a French maid."

"Sexy and legitimate French maid," Mabel corrected. "Who is now employed by the Northwests."

"Just because you can speak French and your skirt flaunts attractively slim legs does not make you either of those."

"They can if you act like it in a fancy place like this," Mabel sang. "Je peux parler en Francais, alors je suis de France, mon frere."

"Je croix pas non."

"Tu n'as pas raison."

"Tu est bazaar."

"Tu est vraiment bazaar."

There was a moment of silence. Dipper had his face buried in the sheets while Mabel straightened some of the wrinkles in her dress.

"Ugh!" Dipper blew out. "Je suis fatigue."

Mabel patted her lap, signaling for where Dipper could rest his head. He obliged.

Laying his head on Mabel's lap, Dipper felt a subjective feeling of calmness overcome him, like being wrapped in a cool blanket made of flowers and herbs after sitting in a sauna. Throughout the decades/centuries Dipper had known Mabel, laying his head on her lap became a very common practice between the two. For Mabel, it was a show of affection for all the crap he had to put with either on a trifling task or the usual abuse from Bill. For Dipper, it was a show of trust. And, if he had to confess it to Mabel, a source of comfort.

"Dit moi votres problemes," she whispered whilst cradling Dipper's head. "Mon frere."

The words sunk into Dipper's head, letting the affection flowing through them paint his perception of things. He wished that the world consisted of the room they resided in while everything outside was oblivion.

"Penetrating the Northwest manor and pilfering it of its secrets is proving more challenging than I had anticipated. At first, I thought gaining the trust of the family would yield more than satisfactory tangible results. Pacifica Northwest views me as a pillar of support. I committed a favor from Bill to help out Preston," He spat out the former's name. "But despite that, he still views me as an outsider who can't be trusted around his daughter who is just beginning to become more assertive in her role as heiress to the Northwest empire."

Mabel merely nodded with a knowing smile.

"Don't get me started on Priscillia Northwest. Out of all of the people I've had to deal with she has become the most cumbersome to deal with. Unlike her husband, she knows that I know the shortcomings of the family and have made amazing progress to help in any way I can. That, the fact that I have no personal background to research and am privy to some of their secrets has made her view me as a high level threat to the family and their fortune."

To that, Mabel began giggling.

"Am I amusing you?" Dipper glared at his sister.

"Désolé mon frere." She covered her mouth to hide the smile growing on her face. "Do you wish to hear my opinion on what you may or may not have done wrong?"

"I always know my mistakes and am quick to correct them." Dipper snapped from his head perch on his sister's thighs. "But, for the sake of getting a second opinion to strengthen and/or confirm my conclusion, please continue."

Mabel closed the gap between their foreheads. "Tu fait trop travailles pour les Northwestes." She pulled her head back and let her hair fall behind her.

"Tu veut moi dire: I try too hard?" Dipper said incredulously. "Is that even possible with these perfectionism driven people?"

"We're not human Dipper. None of us in the family are." The soothing touch of Mabels fingers massaging circles into Dipper's temples eased the butler's worries. He felt even more relaxed because of the moss covered vines growing out of Mabel's sleeves that were currently combing through his hair.

"We're not a real family." Dipper quickly regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth. "Except the two of us." Dipper was holding Mabel's left hand now, attempting to soothe the slight he had just given his sister. "And maybe Grunkle Stan if he ever stops stealing my gold and burying it."

Mabel, verging on depression, regained her happy disposition and giggled. "You know he thinks you call him that because it's a neologism of grumpy and uncle right?"

"I call him that because he looks like a piece of grumpy, wrinkled skin."

Mabel was laughing out loud. "Please don't say that in front of him."

The laughter died down between the two as they began conversing about the state of affairs with his pseudo family. Dipper asked how the pet wendigo was doing and if Grunkle Stan was feeding him enough humans. Mabel told him he had hit a new record and had eaten fifty human sacrifices in under thirty minutes. She told him how one of the sacrifices was a pig and that she had nearly turned the wendigo into fertilizer trying to save it. For some reason, it was currently her new pet. He asked about the benefits of keeping a pet pig to which she replied that Waddles, the pig, was good at cleaning the wendigo's mess and leftover offal. Then she began telling him of how agitated Bill was getting and how his impatience over Dipper's lack of progress was affecting his attitude towards the other family members.

He learned that the usual distractions they were providing for Bill was no longer enough. Their master was becoming more and more demanding as the days passed. Bill was not satisfied with watching them commit atrocities on human sacrifices; Bill wanted to see them mutilate one another.

"It's like the time Bill broke us so that he could adopt us into the family, Dipper," Mabel shivered. "I don't know what he wants anymore. I feel like I have to think like he does just to get him off my back. Two days ago he wanted me to take a double barreled shotgun to Stan's face because he wanted to see what his brains looked like painted on the walls."

Dipper cupped Mabel's left cheek. "I'm doing everything I can to meet Bill's request of finding the rift. I know I can find it. It's here. In the manor." It was Dipper's turn to soothe away Mabel's daily burdens. He really didn't want to see his sister cry.

Mabel gently grasped the hand Dipper had placed on her cheek. "Find it. And fast. The last time Bill was on one of his episodes, he swore that he would do something to punish you if you didn't produce results and stopped playing around with those girls."

"What? Am I spending more time with girls who are not my cute sister?" Dipper joked.

The foolish brother could feel thorns poking from the vines in his sister's soon to be torn French maid outfit. "Don't make me smack you."

Dipper folded his hands into a prayer formation. "Désolé."

The thorns sunk back beneath Mabel's skin, but the damage had already been done. There were minor tears and scratches all over the black fabric. To any member of the Northwest family, they were the equivalent and as obvious as a fashion faux pas.

"You're right though," Mabel said. "You're getting too personally involved with those girls. The other Northwests are getting suspicious of your motives and where you received your training. But more importantly, you need to have something for Bill for the next time he sees you." And with that Mabel deposited Dipper's head from her skirt to his clean but less comfortable sheets. Immediately, he could feel the absence of his sister's touch; the lack of natural tranquilizing pheromones emitted from Mabel's body returned Dipper's headache and fatigue.

"Where are you going?"

"Gonna go out for a tour of the entire manor. It's one thing to observe random rooms that my brother is in and another to physically walk through corridors and doors on your own two legs."

Dipper rolled his eyes. "Okay but would you mind changing your outfit first. I can't have you traipsing around the manor in a torn French maid outfit after leaving my room. People will definitely talk."

Mabel moaned. For as long as Mabel could remember, Dipper's strict adherence to appearances and avoidance of indecorous behavior was both a source of pride and annoyance. "Fine." She huffed, and began loosening the strings to the corset component of the dress. With the aid of multiple vines extending from her back, Mabel was dressed in only her underwear before Dipper could protest and stop her from taking his bed blanket as a toga. Fortunately, there was enough time for Dipper to step on her sheet just as Mabel opened the door.

"We are trying to act like normal humans with common decency, like you said."

"Get off my sheet."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll just walk away. Maybe have a pleasant chat with one of your girlfriends."

"I'll let you," Dipper said, calling her bluff.

At that exact moment, Dipper's dresser began voicing its displeasure at the siblings childish display.

"Mabel, did a weirdness wave follow you and strike my bedroom wardrobe?"

"No."

Both of them were now staring at the noisy wardrobe. After ten seconds of contemplation and back and forth eye conversations (something to the effect of "you go first" over and over again), Dipper walked over to the implacable furniture and opened one of the doors.

 **Jane**

Jane von Schneider screamed. She screamed until she could feel her throat grow hoarse. When she felt she couldn't make anymore noise from wherever she was stuck, Jane began wriggling around, hoping that the noise of her body banging around in her confined space would attract someone's attention. What was strange about her prison was that it smelled like wood and detergent. That and the fact that it was stuffed with fabric, perhaps from clothing. With one great push, Jane shoved her head forward, hoping that the force of her headbutt would open something up, and not her head.

Dipper had taught her one good thing under his guidance, to be a fighter and not a victim. Regardless, Jane felt the futility of her efforts. The headbanging brought nothing but pain. Wiggling around merely exhausted her. A familiar sense of learned hopelessness crept up her spine from her time spent with Jonothan. _Who am I kidding, Jonothan has taken me again and I'll be right back where I started._

A single tear formed and rolled down her cheek.

At her lowest point, Jane had one of the most absurd thoughts she could've had since learning Dipper was a monster just like Jonothan.

 _Dipper. I need you. Get me out of here._

Her prayer was answered as a bright light suddenly illuminated her dark world.

"I thought I told you to guide Jane away from the drawing room meeting, not prepare her for a kidnapping."

 _Dipper._ Jane was close to hopping into his arms.

"Well I'm sorry but she was a handful when I plucked her outta that room. After having a panic attack she looked like she was about to strangle someone. Mhmmm. She be lookin all cray cray." Jane saw the female staring at her with pleading eyes. "You were there Jane. Tell him I'm not lying."

 _I'm in his room again?_

Dipper in the meantime, dragged Jane over to his bed, lovingly dumped her onto the sheets and loosened the vines gagging her mouth. "Terribly sorry about the inconveniencing Jane, but the gravity of the situation you were about to enter necessitated swift action on my sister's part," he said as he sat next to Jane.

The other girl pretended to vomit. "Ugh. Why do you care about these girls? One is a spoiled brat with no confidence and the other an impulsive twat who can't keep her shit together."

"She's right here," Dipper and Jane said in unison.

"Oh great. Now they've upgraded to jinxing one another, brilliant," Mabel said.

Dipper rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Jane. "Now Jane. Listen carefully, I will untie you now but I need to know you will not strangle or leap at anyone in this manor."

Jane sounded like a serial killer with bated breath as she said: "I promise _-breath-_ not to strangle anyone. Was she the one who imprisoned me?"

"Oh dear that doesn't sound relaxed. Why don't you just lay down in my bed." And with that, Dipper gracefully shoved Jane onto her back. "Good grief." He let his hand catch his drooping forehead. "Mabel can you at least put something on?"

"What's wrong with this?" The girl named Mabel said, twirling around in her makeshift toga.

"We have a guest." Dipper jabbed a thumb behind him to a thrashing Jane without looking up.

Mabel groaned. "Fine. Do you have a pair of trousers with a size 28 waist?"

"Um." Dipper closed his eyes in thought.

 _Who is this girl? Dipper's girlfriend?_

"No but the belts should cinch up the waist to make up for the excess circumference."

The toga clad girl let the blanket fall to the ground and made her way to the armoire.

"And before you ask, I'm afraid I didn't bring any appropriately sized shirts for you so you're going to have to wear the white ones I usually have as part of my uniform."

"Hehe, he wears a uniform now."

In a span of five minutes, Mabel was dolled up in a pair of Dipper's khakis and a white button up shirt a little too big for her figure. "How do I look?"she said, striking a pose.

Dipper tried to hide a snort but failed. "Like someone coming from their boyfriend's house."

"Tais-toi," she said in a most dainty French accent.

"Aargh," Jane screamed. "Hey Dipper's girlfriend, can you please untie me? Look, I promise I'm not going to hurt anyone." She was huffing from the extreme exertion she put to breaking out of the vines.

"Girl-"

"-Friend?" Mabel finished for Dipper. They shared a quick look of confusion at each other before bursting out in a round of laughter.

"Was she not listening?" Mabel said as she struggled to keep her giggles from overtaking her speech.

"Do you see my need for formal introductions now?" Dipper chuckled before he could continue.

The situation was getting more than annoying for Jane by the minute. She hated being left in the dark, both metaphorically and physically.

 _Shouldn't a girl who shares clothing with a guy naturally be the girlfriend?_ Jane thought

Dipper walked up to Mabel and stood shoulder to shoulder. "Jane," he slid a protective arm around her. "This is my sister, Mabel." As if by some twin ESP, the two siblings gave Jane two of the creepiest smiles she had ever seen. She really saw the family resemblance after that.

Author's note:

Did ya miss me?


	8. Chapter 8

"There's two of you now?"

Dipper walked over to the bed and sat next to Jane's head. "That's right, Jane."

"But…I thought your sister died when she drowned herself," Jane said, looking at Mabel.

"Ugh. Those were sad times. But luckily," Mabel said, bouncing over to Dipper and giving him a big hug. "My bro-bro here brought me back."

Dipper saw the questioning gaze on Jane's face and replied: "It's a long story. Mabel can you please stop hugging me?"

"Pourqois pas? Tu es mon Saveur."

"Pas maintenant, s'il te plait," Dipper deadpanned.

"Mon Dieu. Une personne peut aider moi, s'il vous plait? Ou je vais faire tout le travail?" Jane wiggled like a dying fish in her restraints.

Dipper looked at Mabel like there was a bug on her face. "Mabel, did you hear someone speak French?"

"Oui, mon frère. Je croix que…elle peut parler en Francais, mais Francias mauvais."

French translation (Mabel): _("Yes, my brother. I think she can speak French, but bad French.")_

Dipper returned his gaze to Jane. _("You should speak more French Jane. It will mask your barbaric sensibilities.")_

 _("Please. I have to get out of here and find Luka before he leaves.")_ Jane said. Tears were welling at the edges of her eyes.

 _("Jane. Why do you want to find Luka Mueller so badly? You just met the man.")_ Dipper asked

"Because he was one of Jonothan's friends who helped record my brother's torture of me!"

A long silence proceeded after Jane's declaration, followed by knocking.

"Dipper, are you there? I need to talk to you about something."

 _Oh no._

Dipper was the first to react. "Merde!" He sprang from the bed and made for the door. French: ( _"Mabel can you keep Jane quiet for a while? I need to take this.")_

Mabel was already putting a ball gag on Jane. French: (" _Don't worry, my brother. Go handle your biz."_ )

Dipper tried not to think about where Mabel got the ball gag and focused on what he was going to say to Pacifica. He opened the door to his room by the tiniest of margins and quickly slid out before closing it.

==Pacifica's POV==

She felt lighter than air and traversed the hallways with a spring in her step. No, it was not because Pacifica Northwest had consumed copious amounts of anti-anxiety medications. Although anyone watching would certainly assume that given the stupid grin. And no it was not because she was wearing less clothing (a knee length robe and nightie).

"Dipper," Pacifica said with whispered reverence.

She had pacified her father and even defended Dipper in front of him. Never in her wildest dreams had she predicted herself pulling off a stunt like that.

Sending a bunch of Frenchmen packing by showing them they didn't have jack shit on her family was one thing but taking a stand against her father, for someone else no less. And it all happened in the same day. Most people would be emotionally exhausted after something like that. Not Pacifica Northwest. Her wins from the day sent a surge of confidence and adrenaline throughout her body that made it impossible to sleep. She had to do something. She felt like screaming at the top of her lungs and bounding down the halls like a madman.

I have got to tell Dipper the good news.

Pacifica Northwest was not the type of girl to hum down the hallways. It was the tune to Frere Jacque. Her mother would chide her for making 'too brilliant an impersonation of a carefree idiot.' She wasn't sure when she had taken up the nasty habit and quite frankly, she couldn't care less.

'Mom and Dad can go suck it. I deserve to hum in my own mansion.'

A giggle threatened to erupt out of Pacifica's mouth and she covered her lips.

'When did I start thinking like that?'

Finally, she was Dipper's bedroom door, announcing her presence with a knock.

"Oh hello Pacifica. What-uh-what did you need to talk about?"

The hesitation in Dipper's voice was not just from the abrupt change in events. He was taken aback by Pacifica's appearance. She was wearing a silk, seafoam green robe. Even more shocking was what she was wearing, or rather not wearing. Dipper could barely make out a Vicky's Secret brand, see through nightie peeking from the openings of the robe. It was very short and allowed ample viewing of Pacifica's legs, among other things.

"Were you…talking with someone in your room?" Pacifica asked.

"No. Of course not."

"Well, I just wanted to say thanks for helping me out back there. With my dad," she said, fixing her hair so that one side of her neck with her oh so delicate skin was exposed, probably on purpose.

Dipper was having trouble focusing his eyes. Another Northwest servant could be lurking around the hallways and see this private chat as something more indecorous. _Does every Northwest woman in this house want to don a revealing robe before expressing gratitude?_

"That's-um-really sweet of you Pacifica."

Pacifica smiled at him through half lidded eyes and took a step closer.

"And I apologize for the grilling he gave you in his office. As you saw, my dad doesn't like it when I make a boyfriend out of butlers."

"Uh-huh," Dipper said. He darted his eyes down both ends of the hallway. _No doors open, no footsteps. All good signs._

"Speaking French out there was genius. They were practically pissing themselves." She jumped for joy just to emphasize the point.

"I'll have to admit though. Things were pretty scary at first. You made me take a huge risk with you."

"Well thankfully I didn't have any cameras installed in the greenhouse. So our little private session will be kept private."

Pacifica was blushing like mad. "Not that," she said, covering Dipper's mouth.

"Stealing those files. You made me do things I never would've done behind my father's back!"

Dipper removed her hands from his face. "Was it all that bad?"

Pacifica took notice of the fact that her hands were being held in Dipper's. She swore she could feel her heart punching its way out of her chest.

"No. No, it wasn't," she said, her voice descending into a whisper without her knowing. Pacifica was still transfixed on the two of them holding hands in the hallway. There was something daring about the act itself, more so than the unmentioned make out sessions. She was just grilled on suspicion of having too intimate of a relationship with her butler and here she was doing exactly that. In college, she didn't have to care because her parent's weren't watching. Now here she was doing exactly what her parents told her not to do for every servant and security camera to witness. Was she going crazy?

"It was...amazing!" Her smile turned into a very suggestive grin. The next time you have another one of your bright ideas, tell me about it. Because I wanna feel like this all the time."

"Bipolar?"

Pacifica giggled at his jab. "Try manic. And maybe a little something else." They were still holding hands and Pacifica'a were getting a little sweaty.

A strange thing happened, right then and there. Call it twin ESP or nascent telepathic abilities, but Dipper could feel the oncoming danger, the stomping of feet, the violent jerk of the doorknob being thrashed forward. He had little time to react. Dipper scooped Pacifica up in a bear hug and away from door hurdling towards them.

"Dipper!" An outraged Mabel called out loud enough to echo throughout the entire manor. "What the heck are you doing?!"

"Dipper, what is the meaning of this?" Pacifica said through gritted teeth. Somewhere between being scooped up and being trapped in a bear hug, Pacifica's robe had come undone, exposing a more than ample amount of cleavage. "Who is this woman and why is she in your room?"

"I've got a better question," Mabel shot back. "What are you doing trying to get your skanky hooks in my fré-fré?"

"Your what?" Pacifica asked.

 _I call upon the powers of the god Xolotl to give me strength_ , Dipper pleaded silently to himself. Everything was happening all at once, the girls were going wild right in front of him. He should've known better to have a private conversation right in front of his possessive sister. If things were going to turn out like when Mabel first met Wendy, then the manor was going to turn into a murder house or worse, Vegas.

Mabel was already glaring daggers at Pacifica. Pacifica was red in the face. Whether from anger or embarrassment to be caught in a very compromising position, Dipper couldn't tell. Probably a little bit of both.

Dipper was still holding Pacifica in full on bear hug and by the state of things between the two girls, it would've been best to keep it that way.

"You. Servant girl. Avert your eyes and be silent," she said with all the confidence and dignity of a girl held in the arms of her butler could conjure.

Mabel scoffed at that. "I'm sorry but I don't recognize the authority of spoiled rich girls. I only follow my fré-fré."

Dipper knew Mabel's sass was really infuriating her. He should've known too; he was five inches away from her face. A face that was currently emanating so much heat from rage he could've sworn he saw a bit of his own inner rage in her. It would've been cute if it wasn't direct at his sister.

"Doing things behind Preston's back...scary things...feeling amazing...wanting to feel like that all the time," Mabel muttered to herself with righteous indignation. Her head was conjuring all manner of sordid and erotic situations to fit Dipper and Pacifica's vague exchange.

Dipper would deny his butt off of the scandalous behavior Mabel was accusing him and Pacifica of. Although he had to admit, hearing her say those words out of context made even him blush. Fortunately Pacifica was doing enough of that for both of them.

"Mabel, s'il vous plaît? Faisiez comment elle parle."

With a huff and a pout, Mabel did as she was told. "Je ne sais pas pourquoi je dois écouter à la Madame skank."

"Parce que vous travaillez pour le Northwest famille et vous voulez passer temps avec moi."

Pacifica voiced her displeasure with a loud groan. "For the sake of your principle, I demand that the two of you speak English!"

Mabel gave Dipper a blank look. "Madame skank ne comprende pas Francais?"

"Excuse me, but did you just call me a skank?!"

"What? No, certainly not. Mabel here was just referring to the servants in general of the mansion. Mentioning how...uh...none of them understand French."

"Not just now. But before. You just called a Northwest, the family that employs you, **a skank**."

 _Oh no_

"Dipper. Put me down now." She wasn't looking at Dipper, her death glare was fixed intently on Mabel and never wavered.

"Promise not to do anything too dra-"

"Now," Pacifica said, turning her eyes onto him. He wished she hadn't.

Dipper lowered her to the ground and she quickly re-did her robe before marching up to Mabel.

What followed were a series of insults traded back and forth, sometimes in French and sometimes in English.

"Mabel was it? The one from the greenhouse. That sounds like a fat old grandmother's name."

"Oui. Pacifica Northwest. Votre nom est un pun de Pacific Northwest. Vos parent vous aiment."

"Wow that sounds really French. Tell me. Did inspector Cluseau teach you to fake that accent?"

"I guess to you my French accent is as real as your probably fake blonde hair."

"What was that about my hair?"

"Desole'. What I meant to say was it looks like a skanky wig. My brother always did have poor taste in girls. Did I mention he used to have a thing for the redhead performing at your birthday party?"

"Mabel. Te-toi," Dipper pleaded.

Their conflict got louder. Dipper's interjection simply added to the chaos. Whatever control Dipper thought he had over the situation was lost to the hatred the two girls had for one another. Soon doors were opening left and right. All manner of Northwest manor servants, butlers, janitors and maids, were coming out of the woodwork to see what was causing such a commotion. Some even added to the cacophany of voices.

"Is that Pacifica?"

"Dear me, what is she doing out so late outside the door of her personal butler?"

"This is getting good."

"Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!" One particularly annoying butler said.

"Quick, give them a chair. I wanna see a cat fight."

 _This is a butler's worst nightmare_. Things were becoming way too public. The stakes were higher now. The first one to back out of the scene would be the loser in front of the assembled staff. Or worse, Mabel would unleash her true form and reveal everything.

"Mabel could you check on that thing we were-"

"Can it Dipper."

Okay, maybe talking to the woman with the glowing green eyes wasn't such a good idea. He could've tried calming Pacifica but one look at her body language told him he was dreadfully out of luck lest he risk getting his head bitten off.

"Don't you order him around you ho-bag," Pacifica snapped.

"Ooooooh," everyone seemed to howl in unison

"You're not a Northwest. You don't have any authority to order anyone here. Because this is my house."

Mabel scoffed at the retort. "Speaking of ho-bags, what was that about always wanting to feel good because of Dipper?"

Suddenly the shouts and jeers from the staff dissipated. Everyone clearly wanted to hear this new bit of gossip. Pacifica took notice of the change in the atmosphere; she knew that her reputation in front of the servants was being put on the line. The whispers gathering around them told her that much.

"So it's true."

"They really are an item."

"She said it herself!"

Mabel pressed her advantage.

"Oh my," Mabel said suggestively. She covered her mouth to hide a poorly concealed smirk. "Daddy's little girl found herself a new play-thing."

Dipper wondered if this would be a good time to evacuate Jane from his room. He could get her, teleport to her room and be back before there was a dead body or someone got maimed. Fixing the situation was beyond his control so the only thing left was to ensure the disaster didn't include Jane. As he was walking to the room, Mabel slid her arm around Dipper's shoulders. His protests were stifled by a pair of fingers closing his lips shut, so he communicated with his eyes.

 _'Mabel, don't rope me into this.'_

 _'It's okay bro-bro. I got this. Just watch.'_

Approximately 2.5 seconds passed where the two siblings communicated through their shared non verbal language. To Pacifica, it seemed like ages. To her, it seemed like they were eye-banging each other. She could feel her heart sinking.

"A fair bit of warning rich girl," Mabel said with an evil grin. She moved her hands around his deltoids like she was showing reverence for some high end sports car. "You may think you have all the money and power you could want."

"Mabel?" Dipper said, afraid of what was to come next.

"But you'll never get this. How can you compare to someone he's known his entire life?"

'All his life?' Pacifica mentally gasped. With every sickly sweet word, she could feel her heart caving in.

"I was there when he had his very first breakup. Now we share the same bedroom."

'The same bedroom?'

"In fact, we kiss each other goodnight."

"That hasn't happened since we were kids," Dipper interjected.

'Kiss? Kids?'

Mabel smiled and relished the look of utter despair written all over Pacifica's face. All those little emotions were like the tiniest and sweetest candies of the best kind. She was a sadist.

Only with great strength was Pacifica able to walk away from the situation without turning into the wreck she felt internally. The damn holding back the tide of negative emotions was threatening to break out of her eyes and spill all over the expensive Persian rugs.

The two siblings kept their eyes on Pacifica's retreating form moving down the carpeted hallway. Halfway down, Pacifica tripped and fell with a yelp before quickly gathering herself and sprinting around the corner.

Finally, Dipper broke free of Mabel's grasp.

"You're a terrible person, you know that," Dipper said with as much malice as he could muster.

Mabel didn't notice. "Oui, je sais bien que je suis une personne mal. Mais si je suis gran mal personne pourqoi je suis tres content?"

Dipper sighed. It was pointless to stay angry at his sister. "Nous sommes les enfants terribles. Even amongst the humans we're the worst."

The damage was done. He let his anger fall apart and refocused his thoughts on the arduous path of damage control. No doubt the Northwests will want a full explanation as to the night's events, omitting certain details of course.

"On allon, fre'-fre'. Maintenant on danse," she said as she did a cocky victory jig with her feet. Obviously she was pleased with herself, having destroyed Pacifica in front of everyone.

In return Dipper shoved Mabel back inside his room. "Fin de la dans."

With the centerpiece of tonight's entertainment disbanded the other servants of Northwest manor shuffled back to their rooms. The men had smiles on their faces and the women whispered to one another about the hot blooded nature of young people these days.

Dipper followed suit and closed the door to his bedroom upon entering.

Te-toi = shut up

*I encourage everyone to take up learning French to further enjoy the fanfic. Reading it without the translations is good enough but you'll definitely get a chuckles or two if you translate them (with google translate if French isn't in your repertoire).

*The inconsistency in including French translation is mostly to get a feel for how the characters in the scene are interacting with one another. When it's only Reverse Pines and Jane, they can understand each other. When Pacifica enters the scene, we begin to see the events unfold more from her perspective, like some foreigner talking to snobby Parisiens.


	9. Mabel Poison

"That was completely uncalled for Mabel. Not to mention rude. You work for her now and thus everything you say and do reflects your character in front of her."

"Like I care what she thinks. Stuck up and prissy little girl. If she's going to act like a skank then she had better be prepared to be called a skank. Seriously, she was flirting with you right in front of me."

"It was behind a door and you were eavesdropping," Dipper shot back.

"Does it matter? Technically I don't even work for her. I work for her father. That little skank does not own me like you do to her."

"Excuse me? What exactly are you talking about?"

"Oh don't start sounding like her."

Dipper ignored Mabel. She was beginning to talk nonsense and he didn't have the mental fortitude to handle it for the night. Instead, he busied himself looking over Jane who hadn't said a word throughout their trifling exchange.

"From what I heard through the door, you've gotten eerily close to Pacifica."

"It's part of the job. Get close to the family, search the place and retrieve the item. Not my fault if she gets emotionally attached to me."

"Yes, but are you?"

"Let's not pretend we're that human. You already know that we're not and therefore do not think or behave as such naturally. I don't feel anything except what I want to."

"Then permit me, fre-fre," Mabel said, catching his cheek and turning his face to face hers. "Are you choosing to feel anything for Pacifica Northwest? Are you choosing to have human emotions and allowing yourself to fall for her?"

Dipper looked his sister dead in the eye. The simple answer is a complete and final "no." But then he hesitated. His hands clenched and unclenched without his direction, an involuntary lump slid down his throat and the feeling of pins in the back of his head made itself apparent. It was as though his mind knew the answer but his body, what was supposed to be an artificial nonhuman body, was giving him a completely different answer.

 _Just say the word, Dipper. You remember._

"No. She's nothing more than a person of interest whose cooperation will further ours and Bill Cipher's goals. Beyond that she means nothing to me," he said without any hint of emotion. He was good at that. He was not one of Bill's most trusted homoncoli for nothing. He was a detached completely non-human entity whose only loyalty was to Bill and his sister. Soon, that loyalty would only extend to his sister because Bill was going to go away, forever.

Mabel stared into her brother's eyes and looked for any hint of doubt. It was like staring into his soul. She had known him her entire life and her entire un-life. Over the decades, she had seen Dipper murder, kidnap and steal, all for the sake of keeping her safe and fulfilling Bill Cipher's requests. Once in the middle of one of Dipper's sloppier escapades, Mabel had the good fortune of seeing her fre-fre's face during the act. It was much like the face Dipper currently had: dead in the eyes, vacuous and empty, like staring into an abyss. Having seen the veracity behind Dipper's words, Mabel backed off, breathing a sigh of relief.

"You had me going there," Mabel said with a nervous smile. "Your acting in front of Pacifica was spot on. You even fooled me."

"Yeah," Dipper muttered. He poked Jane's face. There was no reaction. Then he put his fingers on top of one of her medial neck arteries. Nothing.

"It's just…I don't want you to go gaga for another girl again. We're not human anymore but that doesn't mean you don't have human tendencies. Male human tendencies. Check and point," Mabel snapped her fingers, "your ex Wendy."

Dipper opened Jane's eyelids. _Pure white_.

"I never said anything but when you were with Wendy, you grew distant from the family, from me. You got distracted and Bill asked me to accompany you on your outings. I didn't volunteer like I said I did. He trusted you less because you grew less reliable so I had to step up and so he wouldn't blow up or worse."

"Mabel…" Dipper said through clenched teeth. The venom in his voice was enough to make her flinch.

"I know your pride must be wounded but know that everything I said to Pacifica and did when you were with Wendy was so that no one would think you were losing it. That you weren't getting too emotional and letting it ruin you."

"Did you just kill JANE VON SCHNEIDER!" Dipper finally exploded.

Mabel was caught off guard. _Did he even listen to anything I said?_

"What? Who?"

"Jane!" Dipper pointed to the lifeless girl lying on his bed. "She has all the telltale signs of one your poisonous cocktails. Did you just kill her?" He said a little more calmly but with barely kept in check rage.

"Oh. Uh," Mabel said, smirking and looking away. "Probably not. Um."

Walking over to Jane, Mabel placed a hand on her neck and checked her pulse. She put a very guilty hand behind her head and began sheepishly rubbing it. "I may have given her a little too much."

"Move," Dipper pushed his sister aside and began further examinations. Puncture wounds, discoloration in specific parts of the body, tenseness in the muscles, anything that could give indication as to what Mabel had used and how it was going to kill Jane.

 _How could this happen? Why isn't the seal working?_

When he looked at the mark on Jane's hand, the seal binding her life to Bill Cipher, Dipper found that it was inactive, not one annoying glow.

"How did you get past the magic seal protecting her?"

"For a guy who practically worships what's prim and proper, shoving me aside was really rude." She was rubbing the spot where Dipper handled her. "And what seal are you talking about?"

"The one I asked Bill to place on Jane after I saved her." Dipper rolled up Jane's sleeve and showered the eye of providence adorning her hand.

Mabel's eyes grew to the size of saucers. Or at least, they tried to if that was possible for a homoncolus. "What the actual fuck Dipper?! You let me touch her when she was under the protection of BILL!?"

"You didn't die so your complaint is of little consequence," he said, again with those dead eyes. They didn't glow with brotherly affection. They were absent of anything. "What is the cocktail that you gave Jane?"

If Mabel had a beating heart, it would be breaking right now. As things stood, there was no beating heart, only the feeling that something was broken inside Mabel. That her brother felt nothing for having potentially endangering her was creating a swirl of emotions inside her chest that she hadn't felt since seeing her mother die in front of her. Certainly she wasn't human and because she was a homoncolus the concept of feeling intense emotions was foreign to her. Yet here she was, teetering on the edge of having poison ivy and all manner of crawling plants engulf the entire mansion. All because her brother couldn't give a shit about her in this very moment.

Fortunately, sanity prevailed and Mabel remembered things would turn out a lot worse for her and her dear fre-fre (and everyone else if she gave a shit about them). Calm and controlled would have to rule the day and coerce her into cooperation.

"I gave her the usual. The goodnight kiss," she said with a happy go lucky smile.

"The route of administration?"

"The usual."

"You mean-?"

"Yup."

"When I said restrain her I didn't mean murder by poisonous makeout," he slapped a hand to his forehead, trying to wipe away a burgeoning headache. He was pretty sure the headache wasn't even real; that it was just a figment of his imagination and his ever eroding patience for the day.

"Well she's not dead, yet. Look." Mabel pointed at Jane's head. "She's foaming at the mouth. Isn't that one of those medical sign things that means the patient can still puke."

"Yes. And if this goes on she's going to die by drowning in her own puke."

Dipper hurried to Jane's side and began rolling her onto her side.

"Mabel help me reposition Jane's limbs with your plants so that she stays in the fetal position. This will help prevent her from drowning."

"I don't want any of her mess touching me."

"MABEL!" Dipper yelled, having had enough of her.

The firmness in Dipper's voice surprised both of them. To Mabel, it was like a verbal backhand and its sting was readily apparent in her cheeks.

"Mabel," Dipper said with more courtesy than he was willing to give. "The vines are not your limbs. You don't have to touch her skin with yours again. Tie her up as soon as I get her in the recovery position."

Mabel did as she was told without further complaint.

"There's one more thing."

Dipper sighed.

"I didn't come here just to bother you and work as a lowly manor maid."

"That much was obvious. Was getting fired by calling your employer's daughter a skank part of the list?"

"This is serious. Bill wants a word with you."

"That's fine. I'll start the summoning circle."

"No, he wants a face to face. In his own dimension."

Dipper froze. "Did he say what this was about?"

"I tried asking but he said that I didn't need to know."

"I see."

It took a few seconds longer to ask the question on both of their minds.

"Are we alright, Dipper? I mean everything's going to be okay, right?"

Dipper, being the big fat liar that he was, knew the most appropriate answer to give his sister.

"We're going to be fine. I promise."

Even as he said those sweet words of assurance, Mabel doubted him. He wouldn't give her the courtesy of looking her in the eye. She had never known Dipper to be fearful. No. Emotional weakness such as fear was completely foreign to him. The closest thing he could muster was caution. By the way Dipper began rifling through his armoire for the equipment that would take him to Bill's residence, Mabel could tell he was getting ready for a fight.

"What are you gonna do with that scroll?" She said, eyeing the ancient piece of parchment.

"Nothing you need to worry yourself over. It's gonna be fine. While I'm away, look after Jane. When and if Jane starts having seizures, secure her with more vines. The soft variety free of thorns."

Mabel glanced and Jane and hid her disgust at being made a temporary makeshift nurse.

"Hey," Dipper said, raising Mabel's chin with his fingers. "Trust me. Nothing bad is gonna happen, probably. You said he just wants to talk so we'll talk."

She swatted Dipper's hand away. "You haven't seen Bill in one of his moods lately. Like I told you before. He's getting antsy about the rift. More unstable. What if he tries shooting your head off with a shotgun or worse?"

"Then I'll get a new one. Wouldn't be the first time I've gotten my head bitten or, in this case, blown off."

Dipper swung his hands in an upward arc behind him and a tear in space-time appeared. It shimmered gold, like the yellow brick road in the Wizard of Oz only this one led a demented demon that would, in all likelihood, try erasing him from existence.

"Goodbye."

"Wait." Mabel held her brother back by the wrist. Aware of how angry she had made him earlier, Mabel quickly released her grip and shoved her hand out. "I want you to take this."

Dipper peered into her hand and was really surprised at what he saw. "A philosopher's stone? Where did you-?"

"It doesn't matter, just take it. You need it more than me."

She dropped it into Dipper's front coat pocket and patted it, making extra sure it was where it needed to be.

"Merci," Dipper said, giving Mabel a quick hug. "I love you."

He didn't know if what he said was true or not. Love was another one of those pesky emotions that eluded a non-human entity like Dipper, but it sounded convincing enough for Dipper so it was probably came off as sincere to Mabel.

A small giggle rumbled in Mabel's chest, not used to receiving this type of affection from her brother.

With their goodbyes said, Dipper stepped back and entered the portal, the blades of the dimensional scissors quickly coming down again to close off the portal.

The room was much darker without the golden light of the interdimensional portal. The last image of Dipper walking away from her and into the light would be seared in Mabel's memory and into her dreams.

Sighing, Mabel walked out of the room and retrieved an extra mattress from a supplies closet and a stool someone was still using. They cursed at her all the way back to Dipper's room.

Finally she planted herself next to Jane and began the long wait for Jane to either start spazzing out and Dipper's return (whichever came first).

"That was a lie," Mabel whispered to herself.


End file.
